


Stormseeker: Flight of Dragons

by Serriya (Keolah)



Series: Stormseeker Saga [8]
Category: Dragon Age II, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Bisexual Male Character, Crossover, Dimension Travel, Drama, Established Relationship, Humor, Immortality, Mages, Multi, POV First Person, Present Tense, Swearing, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-25 21:14:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 50,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/643013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keolah/pseuds/Serriya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexen Chelseer, interdimensional time traveler and former Grey Warden, tries to settle down in Kirkwall with his friends and family. But trouble arises from unexpected sources, threatening their very souls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Summerday

I am Lexen Chelseer, the immortal dimension-hopping time traveler, and I am no longer a Grey Warden. 

Summerday dawns beautiful and bright over the Frostback Mountains, the sun's rays bathing the old temple on the mountain in refreshing radiance. We must make preparations to conduct the Ritual of Purification at noon, and cleanse the darkspawn taint from myself, Rispy, and Duncan once and for all. 

"Do you really think that this can be done?" Duncan says. 

"You would not have waited and come this far with us if you really doubted us," Tom points out. 

"Perhaps it is merely an old man's hope," Duncan says with a shrug. "I see no harm in trying. And Lexen and Rispy certainly don't deserve to spend the rest of eternity with the taint." 

Tom nods, and looks over the group assembled, clearing his throat. Aside from those that the ritual will be performed upon, we brought seven mages, as light-leaning as we could get except for Tom himself. 

"Kirlin will be leading the circle," Tom says. 

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" I ask. "Should she even be participating at all, with her pregnant as it is?" 

Kirlin chuckles. "In fact, a woman's magic is actually stronger while pregnant. I would still be leery about doing dark magic, but as this is light magic, I see no problem with it." 

We head into the temple and see the Guardian waiting for us there, eternally waiting for pilgrims to come to pay their respects to Andraste at the Urn of Sacred Ashes. Most of those with us have not previously been through the Gauntlet. 

"This is truly where the Urn of Sacred Ashes is being kept?" Wynne says. "It is truly an honor to be here. Thank you for bringing me along." 

I chuckle softly and incline my head toward her, and refrain from telling her that we didn't bring her along for her benefit. At least I'm probably not going to wind up killing her this time. 

"Alright, everyone," I say. "You've all been told what to expect. In the Gauntlet, you will need to confront your fears, insecurities, whatever issues you might have. And those are frankly none of my business. Let's get to it." 

I follow along behind the 'pilgrims' and leave them to it. There's no real danger here, after all, and I'm sure none of them could _possibly_ have as many issues as me. 

After passing through the various puzzles and tests, we come to the Urn of Sacred Ashes. Time to prepare for the ceremony. We still have some time left before the hour of noon, when we will optimally need to perform the ritual. 

Tom has gone all out on this one. Silver bowls, flowers, and white candles, seven concentric circles of runes... It seems like he's thrown everything he could think of that might boost the available power into this. 

He doesn't want this to fail. 

He hides his emotions behind a veneer of calm, a cold, calculating mask, but I know that he's afraid. That mask slips whenever I'm threatened with anything that might do permanent damage to me. He was outright angry when he found out about the taint. He rarely tries to tell me what to do, but he downright forbade me to do anything to risk my soul against the archdemon. 

When all is ready, the three of us that are being cured take our position in the center of the circle. As the hour of noon strikes, the ceremony begins. I let my eyes slide shut as the seven mages start chanting around me. 

Even with my eyes closed, it feels like light is washing around me, through me, penetrating me, cleansing me deep down to my very soul. I think I can even feel it in the place where my missing hand should be. It burns, and I feel Duncan tense beside me at the sensation. But it's a good pain, and I clench my jaw and smile a little at it. This time, after all, there isn't an archdemon interfering with things any longer. 

And then, soon enough, it's over, and I open my eyes. Only for a moment, as the light is still blinding, although fading. It feels like a thousand tiny hooks in me have been released. Like a spiderweb that I had become entangled in has been cut away from me, leaving me free. I feel clear and pure, unburdened for the first time in years. 

"It is done," Tom says, looking to us with a gaze that pierces into my very soul. He nods in satisfaction, terse and businesslike, but his lips curl into a warm smile. 

"I never thought I would be able to live without the taint again," Duncan says. "But the darkspawn no longer call to me. No more corruption in my blood or whispers in my mind." 

"Welcome to the first day of your newfound freedom," Rispy says. 

As we head out of the temple to make our way back down the mountain, I stop dead in my tracks. There is a figure standing on the windy mountainside before us. She appears to be a human woman, but with beast-like golden eyes, and I recognize her instantly. 

Suzcecoz Ilawi. The abomination I'd briefly encountered in Torn Elkandu. How did she even get here? 

"Suzcecoz," I say flatly. 

"Oh, so formal," the demon says. "Why don't you just call me Suzy?" 

" _Suzcecoz_ ," I repeat. "What do you want?" 

Suzy snorts softly and folds her arms across her chest, casting a glance aside at Tom, who steps to my side protectively. "The amount of magic you were using here today lit a beacon I could sense all the way from Minrathous. So much light magic. A cleansing ritual, if I'm not mistaken?" 

"Lexen, who is this woman?" Duncan asks. "Someone you know, I take it?" 

"This is Suzcecoz Ilawi," I say. "And she is an abomination." 

Suzy tsks. "Such a lovely term the mortals here have come up with to describe those like me." 

"Stay back, demon," Wynne says, raising his staff in warning. 

"You still haven't answered my question," I say. "Why are you here, and what do you want?" 

Suzy shrugs. "It's a perfectly fine question. I'm just here gathering information at the moment. Don't mind me. It's a most fascinating world, and I'm dying to learn more about it." She flashes a feral grin. 

I'd love to ask her just how she even got here, given the fact that this should be five hundred years in the past from when I saw her in Torn Elkandu, but I don't dare mention the time travel thing in front of so many who aren't in on the secret. I don't even know the _names_ of some of the mages with me today. I know Kirlin and Tom, of course, Wynne, Tom's sister Bethany, and Anders, but the other two are an elf man and a human woman whom I haven't met before. 

"You are an abomination, and for the safety and well-being of everyone in Thedas, we must destroy you!" says one of the aforementioned mages whose name I don't know, the elven man, flames swirling around his staff. 

Suzy just rolls her eyes. "Do you really think you can take me? Go on, try, if you wish to die." 

"You are quite confident for one who is outnumbered," Duncan says. 

"There are only three of you who are the least bit of a threat to me," Suzy says, looking pointedly to me, Tom, and Kirlin. "And they should not dare to cross me." 

The elven mage rains a conflagration down upon Suzcecoz, but she hardly seems to notice. I hold up my hand in silent command to my soulmates to stay the fuck _out_ of this. I don't know what she's on about, but I'm not going to take any chances right now. 

"You call that fire?" Suzy scoffs, completely unharmed by the blaze. "No, _this_ is fire." She lifts a hand, and black flames whirl around it. " _Soulfire_." 

A streak of fire burns through the air between Suzy and the elf, black as night, black as the Void, engulfing him in the rage of oblivion. He screams for a moment, for one brief moment, and then his voice is forever silenced, still echoing across the mountainside. The hideous black fire gone, his body falls to the ground with a thump. 

"Maker's breath," Tom utters, eyes widening with an expression I have never seen on him before. Fear. 

"What did you do to him, you monster?" Wynne says. "What manner of demonic spell was that?" 

"A little toy of my own invention," Suzy says with a grin. "Soulfire doesn't merely kill. It destroys the soul as well." 

"Andraste's mercy," whispers the human woman. "We have to destroy this creature. Who knows what she might do if she's allowed to roam free?" 

"Do not engage," I say firmly. "Do _not_ engage." 

"Surely you don't mean to allow this abomination the run of Thedas?" Wynne says. 

"We aren't equipped to deal with this," I say. "Let's leave the matter to the templars. That's their job, after all." 

"Better them than us," Tom mutters bitterly. 

"Fine, fine, send the templars after me, I can deal with them too," Suzy says, waving a hand absently. "I really don't care. I'll leave you be for now, however." 

She chuckles darkly for a moment, and then simply vanishes. No twisting of the Fade around her, no burst of flames or swirl of mist, not even a crack or pop like Apparation or house-elf teleportation. She's just gone. 

"Fuck," I state. 

"I'll agree with that assessment," Anders says, scowling at the body. "Poor sod." 

"Tom, Kirlin, Rispy, Duncan, we need to discuss this," I say, gesturing away from the group. "The rest of you, take care of the body, would you?" I sigh. 

I leave that to them, and gather up the group of those who are in on the secret, waving a hand to put up a privacy spell around us. My heart is pounding and my hand is shaking. If it weren't for how well I've trained at magic, I might have trouble actually casting even such a simple spell at the moment. 

"We can't go back to save him, you know," Tom says. "We won't be able to repeat the ritual, and you would wind up tainted again." 

"I know," I say. "I wasn't even going to suggest it." 

"Who is this woman, Lexen?" Kirlin asks. 

"I ran into her in Torn Elkandu," I say. "I have no idea how she got _here_. Since I encountered her five hundred years into the future! Or at least, I thought it was..." 

"Soulfire," Tom spits. "And they call the Killing Curse 'Unforgivable', when it simply kills people." 

"I would certainly really rather not mess with anyone who can do something like that," I say. 

"I'll _forbid_ you from doing anything that might provoke her," Tom says, scowling deeply. 

"We need to warn Gellert," Kirlin says. 

"One can hope that she'll have other things to occupy herself with than us, at least," Tom says. 

"Optimism, Tom?" Rispy says with a smirk. 

"No," Tom says. "I would simply prefer not to have to leave this world because an overpowered demon is harassing us. It would be much preferable if we were able to strike some sort of bargain with her instead." 

"Bargaining with demons?" Kirlin says, making a face. 

"I wouldn't want to do that unless it were absolutely necessary," I say, sighing. 

"This creature came here from your own world?" Duncan says. 

I give a nod. "I don't know how, but she must have followed me here. The Nexus does record information on who has used it and their destination. It just seems strange since, to the best of my knowledge, this has never happened before." 

"You never wound up five hundred years in the future before, either," Tom says. 

"I was so eager to get back here that I didn't even think to stay and figure out what happened there," I say. "Events must have gone radically differently. Sedder never attacked Torn Elkandu. The Dark Elkandu didn't slaughter everyone. And I don't even know how Sardill ties into all of this." 

"Regardless, she's here because of you," Duncan says. 

I sigh. "I know. Don't think I don't feel any guilt or responsibility because of that. I just never thought that something like this could happen, especially when I've gone to so many other worlds and nobody has ever followed me before. Still, I'm not sure just what I could do about it." 

"Nothing," Tom says. "Leave her be. It's too risky. Let the templars handle it if they can, and die if they can't. They're better equipped to deal with mages anyway. And if she can outmatch someone who can drain her mana, I'd rather not risk tangling with her ourselves." 

"I don't like this one bit," Rispy says. "This is way out of my league." 

"If this Suzcecoz could get here," Kirlin says, "perhaps the Nexus is actually accessible to us now, instead of being locked out after six hours. We should test it out sometime." 

"And risk bringing more demons here?" Duncan says. 

"They can't all be demons," I say. "If nothing else, we should find out more about what we're dealing with. Once we're back in Kirkwall, I can try Recalling to the Nexus to see if we can use it, and gather some information." 

"Good idea," Tom says. "Just be careful. If there's anyone else there that knows how to use soulfire..." 

I nod. "You don't even need to say it. I'm not that reckless. I'm not exactly eager to cease existing, myself." 

Once the deceased is taken care of, we head off back down the mountain. This was supposed to be a day of freedom and celebration, but now we have heavy thoughts, and new concerns. 

"Petra and I will go back to Kinloch Hold and tell them what happened," Wynne says. "Are the rest of you returning to Kirkwall?" 

"We are," I say. "I'm sorry about this. I didn't think anything like this would happen..." 

Wynne shakes her head. "You could not have predicted something like this. I will warn the templars of Ferelden to keep watch for this Suzcecoz. I'll leave it to you to get word to the knight-commander of Kirkwall." 

If Wynne realizes that the rest of us are apostates, she doesn't judge us by it. She and the others had permission to come up to Haven with us. And while Tom and I were protected by the Grey Wardens, whether we were technically members or not, Bethany was never a member of any Circle, and Kirlin and Anders are clearly runaways. 

"I'll make sure they're warned," I say. "I don't know what the templars will be able to do if she just went back to Tevinter, but honestly, if she went back there, I don't really _care_ what she does. If she comes back to cause trouble in Ferelden or the Free Marches, _that_ I'm concerned about." 

"Indeed," Wynne agrees. 

"We should warn Gellert, too," Kirlin says quietly. 

"I have the feeling that we haven't seen the last of Suzcecoz," Rispy says. 

"I fear you're probably right," I say. 


	2. The Unknown Paragon

As soon as we arrive back in Kirkwall, I part ways with my companions, except for Tom who refuses to let me go alone, and head up toward the Gallows. Quite the... lovely place to keep the mages. At least Kinloch Hold back in Ferelden pretended _not_ to be a prison. 

I can't help but be more than a little nervous as I approach. The templars here might have no idea that I'm a mage, but the fear of being made Tranquil is an ever-present one around them. I have to wonder which fate I would dread worse... the oblivion that Suzy's soulfire promises, or living out the rest of my existence without magic, emotions, or dreams. 

And here I am, voluntarily approaching a templar. "Pardon me, ser. Could you tell me who is in charge of the templars here?" 

"Knight-Commander Meredith," the templar says, pointing over toward a blonde woman who is currently speaking with another templar. "Best not bother her unless it's important, though." 

"It's important," I say, taking a deep breath and heading over toward the armored woman. 

Meredith stops talking as I approach her and turns to look at me. "Do you have a message for me?" 

"A warning," I say. "A dangerous abomination was recently sighted down in Ferelden, and I'm here to warn you to be on the lookout for her. Her name is Suzcecoz Ilawi. She looked like a human woman, red-haired but with yellow eyes like an animal. She is extremely dangerous, and all caution is advised." 

"Do you know what manner of demon this creature was?" Meredith asks. 

I shake my head. "I'm sorry, no I don't." I don't know if the local types of demons would even apply in this case, but I can't tell her that. "Judging by her behavior, pride seems likely, however." 

"You saw this abomination with your own eyes?" Meredith asks. 

"Yes, ser," I say. "I've... never been so scared in my life. She killed one of those with me with this horrible spell she called 'soulfire'... burned away his very soul. I'm sure she could have easily killed the rest of us, but she just seemed to be toying with us. And then she left, just vanished without a trace." 

"Are you certain that this woman was an abomination?" Meredith asks. 

I give a shaky nod. "She admitted as much herself." 

"Fear not," Meredith assures me. "I shall inform my men of this, and we will keep an eye out for this abomination." She mutters, "There are enough problems here without powerful demons terrorizing the city as well, what with the Qunari, maleficar, and whatever else." 

"Thank you, ser," I say. "I'll feel much safer, knowing that the templars are protecting this city." 

I bow deeply to the knight-commander, and the two of us get out of the Gallows as quickly as we can make my leave without seeing too suspicious about it. It's a damned good thing I took all those acting classes, or I'd never be able to say such a thing with a straight face. At least, if nothing else, this should make the templars less likely to look to me as an apostate, at any rate. 

"They're probably just going to get themselves killed anyway," Tom hisses to me in Parseltongue. "Good riddance to them if they do, I say." 

I don't know what the Qunari are doing in Kirkwall. I haven't dared to approach their compound near the docks to find out. I'm still technically a Qunari myself, after all, as I haven't entirely or openly turned away from their principles, even if I disagree with some of them. Like, most importantly, the fact that they'd have me in chains if they knew I was a mage. 

I head back through town to see where my friends have wandered off to, and locate Rispy talking to another dwarf in Hightown. 

"I don't need anymore Stone-damned dusters to haul things out of the Deep Roads," the other dwarf snaps. "I've got all the help I need, so go find your meal ticket somewhere else." 

Far from being offended, Rispy looks highly amused at this reaction, grinning crookedly and chuckling a bit. "Suit yourself." He shrugs and walks off. 

"What, don't tell me you actually _want_ to go back to the Deep Roads, Rispy?" I say, falling into step beside him. 

"I--" Rispy begins, only to be interrupted by a very inept thief swiping his bag of holding. "Hey, dirt for brains! You better drop it, before I stick a bolt in your eye." 

However, another dwarf with a lot of chest hair beats him to it, pinning him to the wall with a bolt from a large crossbow. "You don't have the style to work Hightown." He removes the bolt with a sharp tug, takes Rispy's bag and tosses it back to its proper owner. "Varric Tethras, at your service." 

"Thanks," Rispy says, chuckling and tucking it away. 

"You really ought to secure that better, Rispy," I say. 

"Rispy?" Varric says, and then laughs. "As in, _Paragon_ Rispy?" 

Rispy makes a face, and nods. "Was totally not my idea. I was perfectly happy with being Warrior Caste. But you kill one archdemon, and, well..." 

"Oh, that's rich," Varric says. "If my idiot brother Bartrand had any idea who he was talking to..." 

"I wasn't going to tell him," Rispy says with a smirk. "And these are my friends, Lexen Chelseer and Thomas Hawke." 

"Why do you want to go to the Deep Roads, anyway?" Tom asks. 

"For treasure, of course," Varric says. "There's only a short time after a Blight when the Deep Roads are clear enough to send an expedition in." 

"The Blight ended months ago," I say. 

"And Bartrand started planning this the day he got word of the archdemon's death," Varric says. "Maybe even sooner. But it's taken this long to get everything together, and at this rate, we still might not be able to go." 

"What's the holdup?" Rispy asks. 

"We don't need more hirelings," Varric says. "We need a partner to invest in the expedition!" 

"How much?" I ask. 

"Fifty sovereigns should suffice," Varric says. 

"I'll give you a hundred sovereigns if you don't take me with you," I say. 

Varric chuckles. "I can work with that." 

I pull out my own bag and fumble with it for a moment with my one hand. I finally resort to putting it back in my pocket and just pulling out the coin pouch and tossing that over to Varric. "You can count it out yourself." 

"The other issue is that we're going to need a map of the Deep Roads to know exactly where we're going and how we're going to get there, too. Say, weren't you a Grey Warden?" he asks Rispy. 

"We all were," Rispy says. "Unfortunately, while we do have maps of the Deep Roads, they're the ones in Ferelden, closer to Orzammar. I can tell you exactly how to get to Ortan Thaig, but for anything closer to Kirkwall, I'm afraid you're out of luck." 

"I'll find you a map if you don't take me with you," I say. 

"I think we're already clear on the fact that you don't want to come," Rispy says, chuckling. 

"There's a big slice of the wealth for you if you can help us out," Varric says. "I'm sure even a Paragon needs money, right?" 

"My mother wants to get back her family's old estate," Tom says. "While I am perfectly content with where we are staying now, it's the principle of the matter." 

"What happened to the estate?" I ask. 

"My uncle sold it to slavers to pay off gambling debts," Tom says, rolling his eyes. 

I clench my fist. "Do we need to go kill some slavers?" 

"We already took care of it." 

"You went and killed slavers, and didn't invite me along?" I say, pouting a bit. 

"It was a bonding experience with my siblings," Tom says. "I didn't want them fighting darkspawn, but they wanted to do something useful, so we cleared out some slavers instead." 

"Ah," I say, nodding in understanding. "I'll forgive you, then." I grin at him. 

Varric chuckles. "Well, if you want an estate in Hightown, you're going to need a heap of coin. I don't know how much you've got, but more never hurt, right?" 

"I'll head along with you myself," Tom says. "There might be ancient power and knowledge to be found there. But my siblings are definitely staying behind." 

"And I'm not going either," I say. 

"Right," Tom says. 

"Get me a map, and we're in business," Varric says. "If you need me for anything, you can find me at the Hanged Man." 

"That's an inn, isn't it?" I ask. 

"New to Kirkwall, are you?" Varric asks, chuckling. "The Hanged Man is only where every bit of scum in the city goes to drown their sorrows." 

"Ah," I say. "You know, booze sounds really good about now. Lead the way." 

* * *

"So, Duncan said he could get us those maps?" Rispy asks as we stroll along the Wounded Coast near Kirkwall. 

"Yep," I reply. "So what are we looking for out here, anyway?" 

It's just me, Tom, and Rispy today, patrolling the coast. Just a peaceful hike through the wilderness, killing bandits and wildlife. 

"A bounty on bandits, looking for some specific alchemical ingredients, and I heard rumor about slavers as well," Tom replies. 

"Sounds good," I say with a bloodthirsty grin. 

As we walk, we come across a group of giant spiders attacking a dwarf, a merchant by the looks of him. His two bodyguards don't appear to be doing a good job of finishing them off, so we join in and make quick work of the creatures, between Rispy's blades and mine and Tom's magic. 

"Glad you arrived when you did, strangers," the dwarf says, obviously more grateful to be still alive than caring if we're apostates or not. "These louts certainly aren't earning their pay." He glares at the two men. "The name's Javaris Tintop. I've got a business proposition for you. You seem to be capable enough sorts, after all." 

"You want to pay us to kill something else for you?" I ask. 

"Something like that," Javaris says. "You see, the Qunari have this explosive powder. I was hoping to buy the formula from them, but they wouldn't sell it to me." 

I sigh and roll my eyes. "The Qunari aren't going to sell you the _gaatlok_." 

Javaris ignores me and continues on. "So I got to thinking, there's some of those heretics of theirs nearby. The Tal-Vashoth." 

"You want to try to buy it from them instead?" I wonder. 

"No, no, I was thinking maybe if I got someone to kill them, that might make the Qunari happy with me and convince them to deal with me," Javaris says. "Imagine how much money I could make with something like that powder of theirs!" 

I snort softly. "You'd have better luck convincing the Tal-Vashoth to sell it. And they probably wouldn't stoop that low, either. Or more likely, just take everything you have and dump your body off a cliff." 

"There's gold in it for you if you'll go and kill some of the Tal-Vashoth for me," Javaris says. 

"We'll go deal with these Tal-Vashoth," I say with a shrug. "But don't expect it to get you anywhere with the Qunari." 

"Great!" Javaris says, still clearly not listening to me. "I'll meet you at their compound in the docks when you're done. Do hurry it up!" He gestures to his bodyguards and quickly makes his way back toward town. 

"He didn't recognize me, either, did he," Rispy comments. 

"No, I don't think he did," I say with a smirk, continuing on down the coast. 

I'm really not looking forward to dealing with kossith again, either Qunari or Tal-Vashoth, but with them in Kirkwall I suppose there's no help for it. I try to relax and put on my Ashkaari mask, to think like a Qunari again. It's less difficult than I might have thought. Their language comes to mind again easily as I'd heard it every day for twelve years, not so very long ago. 

"Halt, travelers," says a voice from a rock above them, and I glance up to see a kossith male standing there plain as day, tall, horned, and gray-skinned. "There is danger ahead. The path ahead is littered with my kind." 

"I think we can handle it," Rispy says dryly. 

"I expected to be warning a merchant caravan, such as those they have been preying upon," the Tal-Vashoth says. "However, as few of you as there are, you seem more competent than the typical travelers." 

"You are Tal-Vashoth as well, I take it?" I ask. 

"I am," he says. "I did not like my role, so I decided to choose another path. But I am not like these others. I will not be a mere bandit for the sake of a bit of coin." 

"What was your role?" I ask. "What did you disagree with, exactly?" 

"You would not understand," the Tal-Vashoth replies. 

I narrow my eyes at him, and say to him in Qunlat, "You mistake me. I am Ashkaari. And I wish to know." 

The Tal-Vashoth's eyes widen in startlement. "I did not expect to encounter a human Qunari here. And not a recent convert, either." 

"I have been Qunari for twelve years," I reply. "However, I have just arrived in Kirkwall." 

"Do you demand that I submit to the Qun once again or die?" 

"No," I reply. "I simply wish to know what is going on. I want to know what you objected to." 

"Very well," the Tal-Vashoth says. "I was Ashaad, before. The Arishok brought us here chasing a fable. I do not know if what he seeks even exists. But he demanded that we remain in Kirkwall as we searched the city and the land around it for any sign of this relic. I spent days on end mapping out every step of this coast, and for what? We will not find any lost relics discarded in the sand." 

I incline my head toward him gratefully. "I understand your frustration. But you do not belong with these bandits." 

"No," he agrees. "I do not." 

"It sounds to me like you objected more to your orders than to your role or even the Qun," I say. 

"Perhaps. But the Qun does not give room to question." 

"Perhaps it should," I reply. "I question the Qun plenty. But without questions, there can be no answers. The Qun isn't perfect -- or at least the way it is currently interpreted by most. And even if it were, the Arishok is still a man, still capable of making mistakes. Although I have little doubt that he is as frustrated as you are with his inability to find what he seeks." 

"Obviously, he needs an Ashkaari," Tom interjects, chuckling. Poor Rispy probably isn't catching much of our conversation, however. 

The kossith gives me a long, thoughtful look, before saying, "Then what would you suggest, Ashkaari?" 

"Follow me, and help me," I say. 

"Will you lead me back to the Qun?" 

"Perhaps I will lead you to something better. Do you wish to be Ashaad again?" 

"I do not know," he says. "But I think you are more likely to have answers for me." 

"Very well," I say. "Do you think anyone else here is likely to listen to reason?" 

He shakes his head. "They are violent, greedy, and bloodthirsty. They will not listen. But beware. They have Saarebas with them as well." 

"If I were Saarebas, I'd complain about being chained up like an animal, too," Tom comments. 

"These Saarebas did not seek freedom of their own volition," the kossith says. "They simply followed when their Arvaarad turned away from the Qun." 

"This was not their choice, but they may need to be slain regardless," I say, sighing. "This is one of the problems with the Qun." 

"Could someone tell me what's going on, please?" Rispy asks. "I can't follow even half of what you're saying." 

"Sorry, Rispy," I say. "We're going to kill some bandits now." 

"Ah, good," Rispy says, grinning and brandishing his blades. "That I can get behind." 

The kossith nods, and says, "Let me follow you, and be Qunari again." 

"Tom," I say. "I don't want to take any chances with those Saarebas. Stun me, please." 

Tom hits me with a Stunning Spell, the flash of red light putting me out for a moment before he revives me again. Our new companion looks very confused at this, but I can't explain to him why I do this. I'm not going to tell him that I'm a time traveler, or that when I die, I return to the last point where I woke up, whether that was waking up in the morning or being revived from having been knocked briefly unconscious. 

We storm into the camp, and as the Tal-Vashoth grab their weapons and begin to attack us, I call out in Qunlat, "I am Ashkaari! You will surrender, or we will destroy you!" 

"We will never return to the Qun!" one of them snarls. "The Arishok can breed with himself!" 

"Did that phrase mean what I think it means?" Tom asks me in English. 

"Yes, I believe it did," I reply. 

We fight. I pull out a sword in my one hand, glad that I'm left-handed, and engage the Tal-Vashoth in melee combat. I don't particularly want to reveal to my new friend that I'm a mage yet. I still use magic to shield myself a bit and improve my reflexes, however. That much I can get away with without being obvious about it. 

But I'm not wearing armor, and my body isn't fit for combat. Although I know _how_ to use a sword, my muscles haven't undergone the years of training and exercise to really make use of one. My warding spells aren't good enough, and while I'm busy trying to fend off the enemies' spears and swords, a blast of flame from a Saarebas strikes me dead on. 

My skin feels like it's melting, and I cough and choke. Desperately, I try to cast a healing spell, but my left hand has a sword in it, and I remember too late that I lost my right hand. No magic comes forth, and I die in burning agony. 

* * *

I wake with an involuntary gasp on the dirt path where Tom had stunned me minutes before. Dying is never pleasant, but some ways of going out are worse than others, and burning to death is definitely high on the list of unpleasant ones. 

"Alright..." I say, getting up and pulling my wand out of my bag. "Before we go on, there is something you need to know, kadan." I turn to the former Tal-Vashoth. "I am a mage. I am going to kill those Tal-Vashoth with magic." 

"You are Saarebas?" he asks in surprise. 

"I deny that a mage is unable to master himself," I say. "The sword does not wield the warrior. Demons can be refused. Temptations can be rejected. No, there _is_ no temptation. There is only choice. There are always choices." 

"I am not in a position to be able to argue this." 

"Let's discuss it later," I say. "For now, I think we have stood on this path talking for long enough. Let's kill these bandits before they notice we're loitering out in front of their camp." 

We head in again, and this time I make no attempt to talk them down, nor do I bother hiding my powers now. A storm of lightning rains down upon the Tal-Vashoth. 

" _Imperio_ ," Tom casts, pointing his own wand at a Saarebas, who proceeds to turn his flames upon his former comrades instead. 

Once everyone in the vicinity is dead except for us and the Imperiused Saarebas, I scowl at Tom. "You know I don't like mind control." 

"He didn't have a choice in coming here to begin with," Tom argues. "And he wishes to follow. It's taking only a very light touch to direct him." 

"That doesn't make it right," I say. 

"Would you prefer to just kill him?" Tom asks. 

"No one ever asked _him_ what he wants," I say, sighing. "I know nothing about mental deconditioning. But fine. Keep your pet Saarebas. But you'll need to take responsibility for him, and feed him, and clean up after him." 

Tom chuckles softly and nods. 

We return to Kirkwall, and I say to the former Tal-Vashoth, "Do you wish to come with us to see the Arishok now?" 

He shakes his head. "There is much that I still must think about. I do not think I can face them again just yet." 

I nod. "Then go to Lowtown with Tom and Saarebas. I'll speak with you later." 

We part ways, and Rispy and I head down toward the docks. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for this. Dealing with Tal-Vashoth was one thing, but now I'm going to be facing the Arishok himself. And probably one who is very annoyed at one idiotic dwarf. 

"What do you want, basra?" says the guard at the gate to the compound, hands never far from his weapon. 

"I am Ashkaari," I tell him in Qunlat. "And I need to speak with the Arishok about a foolish dwarf." 

"My apologies," the Qunari says. "I did not realize there were any human followers of the Qun in this dung heap of a city. You may enter, of course." 

We head inside. The compound looks as though it were thrown together haphazardly from whatever was found laying around, a temporary shelter and nothing more. Still, they spared the time to build something of a throne for the Arishok, a Qunari with the biggest set of horns that I have ever seen, big enough that I have to wonder how they don't break his neck from the weight of them. And, unsurprisingly, he does not look particularly happy. 

"Ah, there they are," Javaris says. "My right hand arrives." 

"I am not your servant, and if that was meant to be a joke, it was in poor taste," I say, holding up the stump of my arm. 

"Erm, sorry, sorry," Javaris says. "But you killed the Tal-Vashoth, didn't you? Yes? Every last one of them?" 

"They won't be a problem any longer," Rispy says. "You really should listen to my friend, though. You're just wasting your time and money." 

"Bah, what's a Stone-blind duster like you know about business, anyway?" Javaris spits. 

Rispy snorts softly, and mutters, "And to think, at first I was _glad_ that no one in Kirkwall had any idea who I was." 

"What, sorry that someone finally recognized that mark on your face for the dirt you are?" Javaris says. 

"You enjoying being Merchant Caste again, Javaris?" Rispy says. 

"Oh, it's nice and all, but there's more money to be had here on the surface," Javaris replies. "You only wish you could have a caste, don't you, brand. Orzammar decides to embrace the surface dwarves again, but you'll always be a duster." 

"Javaris," I say, rolling my eyes. "I'm going to stop you before you put your foot in your mouth so far you're licking your own ass. You are speaking to the Paragon Rispy." 

"What?" Javaris says. "No way. This brand? Next you're going to tell me that you're a Grey Warden." 

I hold up my right arm again. "See this? Bitten off by the blighted archdemon." 

"Er... right," Javaris says, blinking at me in disbelief. 

"I'll take your apology tax now," Rispy says. "And you might want to apologize for wasting the Arishok's time, too." 

"Ah, Arishok!" Javaris says, turning around to address the Qunari who is still quietly glowering down at him. "What say you for our deal, then? Can I get the formula for your powder now?" 

"No," the Arishok says flatly. 

I snicker softly. "I already told you, and I'm sure the Arishok already told you. We're not going to sell you the _gaatlok_." 

"We?" Javaris says. 

I ask the Arishok, "Are you using the new dragonfire _gaatlok_?" 

"We are," the Arishok replies, looking at me in puzzlement. 

"I invented that," I say with a smirk. 

"You..." Javaris stares at me, gaping for a moment. "Why did they let _you_ have the formula for it, but they won't sell it to me?" 

"I think what my friend said about putting your foot in your mouth applies," Rispy says. "I suggest you leave. Now. And not bother the Qunari again." 

The Qunari puncuate Rispy's words by brandishing their spears threateningly. 

Javaris squeaks a little. "Alright, alright, I get the idea!" He stalks off, muttering something about, "Sodding ox-men, dusters, and dog-lords..." 

Once he's gone, the Arishok says to me, "You are the Ashkaari who created the _atashila gaatlok_? What are you doing in Kirkwall?" 

"The Qun led me here," I reply, chuckling. "I understand that you have lost something. I can help you find it." 

"This is my duty," the Arishok says. 

"The mouth does not complain when the hand brings it food," I reply. "It _is_ my role to seek." 

"And he's quite good at it, too," Rispy says, snickering. 

"Also, I have an advantage in being human," I say. "I and my friends can get into places more discreetly and ask questions without arousing suspicion, that a kossith could not." 

"I cannot refuse your aid, Ashkaari," the Arishok says reluctantly after a few moments. "If the Book of Koslun can be returned to our people, it matters not who finds it." 

_That_ is the relic that he lost? I can see why he had his men scouring every inch of the coast, then. I give a terse nod to him. "Do you have any information where I can begin? Do you know what happened to it, or who took it?" 

"It was stolen," the Arishok says. "The thief was a human woman. A pirate named Isabela." 

"Oh. _Isabela_ ," I reply, drawing out the name a bit. 

"You know of her?" 

"I met her once," I say. "Alright. I can totally do this." 

"I certainly hope so," the Arishok says. 


	3. Many Secrets

"Do you have any idea where we might be able to find Isabela?" Rispy asks. 

"Last time I encountered her, it was in a brothel," I reply. 

"I see," Rispy says with a smirk. "So, what, are you going to assign us all to diligently spending time in every whorehouse in town to search for her? Or are you going to take the full burden of this duty upon yourself?" 

I smirk. "I think I can afford to delegate that task." 

When we get back to the hovel-turned-mansion that we've been staying in, I gather up my friends to let them know what's going on. I give them a description of Isabela, and tell them to keep an eye out on every brothel and tavern in Kirkwall for any sign of her. 

"How do you know she's even still in Kirkwall?" Tom's brother Carver wonders. 

"I don't," I say. "The Qunari seem to think she is, though, and if she shows up, I want to know about it." 

"What exactly is it that the Qunari are looking for, anyway?" Kirlin asks. 

I take a deep breath. "A book penned by the hand of the founder of the Qun philosophy. This thing is absolutely priceless. It's something that could very well start a war if we're not careful. And I haven't a doubt that those who don't like the Qunari, such as the Tevinter Imperium, would definitely kill to get their hands on this book." 

"Maker's breath," Jowan mutters. 

I nod in agreement. "So if you see her, let me know as soon as possible. Question her if you think you can be subtle about it, but don't take any chances if you have any doubts. Don't take unnecessary risks. I don't want anyone getting hurt because of this." 

"Especially not Kirlin or Bethany," Tom murmurs. 

Carver and Jowan promptly volunteer to cover the worst spots in Lowtown and Darktown, to leave Kirlin and Bethany for Hightown. 

"Get word down to Anders, too," I add. "I don't expect him to leave his clinic, but he can keep an eye open if she wanders in wanting something cured discreetly." 

As the others file out to get to work, Duncan chuckles softly. "I didn't think you were the type to actually retire." 

"Not at all," I say with a grin. "I'd get bored in a month. Did you get those maps?" 

"Not yet," Duncan says. "Stroud said he'd make a copy for me, however. His men are planning an expedition of their own into the Deep Roads." 

"For more noble purposes than looking for treasure, I'm sure," I say, smirking. 

"I don't begrudge Bartrand and his expedition their efforts," Duncan says. "The dwarves lost much when the darkspawn overran their former homes." 

* * *

There's no sign of Isabela at first, although Kirlin thinks she briefly saw someone who might have matched her description at a brothel called the Blooming Rose in Hightown at one point. 

There is also the matter of my adopted kossith to deal with. While Saarebas seems quiet and content with his lot, the other one is going to need talking to. 

"I was Ashaad," he says. "I do not believe I am Ashaad any longer. I need a new name." 

"Why do you think that you are Ashaad any longer?" I ask. 

"I chose to follow you. I came here with you. But I am still lost. Without purpose. Give me a name." 

I shrug. "If you are asking that of me, perhaps you should choose one for yourself. It is not my role nor my place to decide another's path for him." 

"Perhaps. Very well. Then I shall be Maraas. Nothing. For I have no role, and would prefer to be free to do as I choose." 

"That is suitable enough," I say. 

Here I am, subverting the Qun for my own purposes again. It was one thing when it was just me and those who had never been Qunari in the first place. I suppose I shouldn't feel guilty about it. This man had already chosen to turn away from the Qun in the first place, after all. I'm just showing a new path to one who was already looking for one. 

"You are also Tal-Vashoth after all, are you not?" Maraas says. "You were simply more subtle about it than I was." 

I sigh. "I can't agree with a lot of what the Qunari do." 

"Yet you did not openly rebel against it," Maraas says. 

I shake my head. "I was sent off on a mission and simply didn't go back to Par Vollen when it was completed. Of course, I also lost my hand in the process." 

Maraas chuckles softly. "I did not think, for all your talk, that you were such a firm believer in the Qun as you claimed. Saarebas." 

"You saw right through me," I say with a shrug. "Perhaps it would be easier to believe that I spent twelve years pretending to be a good Qunari just for the sake of learning about their technology." 

Maraas laughs heartily. "Yes, that I will believe." 

"So what do you plan to do now?" I ask. 

"I think I would like to remain here for the time being," Maraas says. "This house is remarkable. It looks like a tiny hovel on the outside, but it is a mansion on the inside. Is this magic?" 

I nod. "Yeah. It was enchanted that way." 

"I never imagined that magic could be capable of doing something like this. I'd always thought it was all danger and fire." 

"There's far more to magic than that," I say, and chuckle. "'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy,' in the words of an old Bard." 

"I have little doubt of that," Maraas says. "Tell me. Underneath the mask you put on for the Qunari, what's really under there? What do you really believe in?" 

"Freedom," I reply immediately. "Freedom for all beings. Everyone should be free to make their own choices. Slavery in any form is inherently wrong. And brainwashing is just a more subtle form of slavery." 

"I'm impressed that you managed to convince _anyone_ that you were a good Qunari." 

"I've had a lot of practice with acting," I say. "I generally have to keep being a mage quiet no matter where I am, for one. Well, I'm glad I don't have to pretend around you, at least. This house can be a safe haven, where no one needs to pretend to be someone they are not, regardless of what masks they have to wear outside." 

I have no idea why Tom's mother really wants to get back her family estate. Although, I suppose, if the Chelseer manor had wound up in the hands of slavers due to the mismanagement of some cousin of mine, I'd probably do the same. 

There's a knock on the door, and I gesture to Maraas to stay put as I go to answer it, since nobody else is in the house at the moment. I open the door to see a pair of Dalish elves standing outside, one with silver hair and one with black. I recognize the silver-haired one as Theryn Mahariel, the one I'd recruited into the Grey Wardens. 

"Ah, hello, Theryn," I say. "Come on in. Who's your friend?" 

"I'm Merrill," says the dark-haired one as they step inside and into the expanded area. "Oh, oh my." Her eyes widen. "By the Dread Wolf! How did you ever manage to fit this castle into that tiny hut?" She then notices Maraas standing behind me. "Oh! You're one of those horn-heads! Ox-men!" 

"Kossith," I helpfully supply with a smirk. 

Maraas lets the slurs slide with a vaguely amused grin. I think he's possibly the most jovial kossith I've encountered outside of Par Vollen. 

"So is there any particular reason for this visit?" I ask. "Or were you in the neighborhood and you thought you'd just drop by? And tracked me down, for that matter. It's not like I exactly left a forwarding address when I left Ferelden." 

"There aren't many human men with eyes that particular shade of green, who have one hand, and hang around an elven woman and a dwarf with a tattoo on his face," Theryn replies with a smirk. "You really weren't that hard to find when you know what to look for. Anyway, why I'm here. Two reasons, really. One, I bring a message from Asha'bellanar." 

"Who?" I wonder. 

"You humans know her by the name Flemeth," Merrill explains helpfully. 

"Oh," I say, scrunching up my face. "Her. Let me guess. She sent you along with some abstruse message that supposedly sounds deep but is really completely incoherent?" 

Theryn snickers softly. "I think she was a mildly annoyed that you didn't come and see her again. But anyway, here's her message." She takes a deep breath. "Stormseeker. You stand upon a precipice. You are in danger of losing everything that you have known. But when you hang by your nails from the edge of the cliff, it is your choice whether to claw your way to the top again, or to let go. It is only when you are falling that you will know whether you can fly." 

I sigh and rub my eyes. "Alright then. That was predictably vague and unhelpful. What's the other thing?" 

"The other reason would be Merrill here," Theryn says, gesturing toward the other Dalish woman. 

"Oh?" I say, turning to give Merrill a look over. 

Merrill begins to babble something incomprehensibly, but Theryn cuts her off with a gesture. "Keeper Marethari wanted her to leave so that her ill-advised experiments do not endanger the clan. Well, to be exact, Keeper Marethari more wanted her to give up the aforementioned ill-advised experiments, but since she refuses to do that..." 

"I am reclaiming our history," Merrill says. 

"You're trying to repair the Eluvian that tainted me and killed Tamlen," Theryn said, glaring at her. "And Marethari thinks you're resorting to blood magic and consorting with demons in order to do it." 

"What?" Merrill says, pouting a little. "Blood magic is just magic like any other! And demons are just Fade spirits. They're all dangerous and warrant caution." 

"I see," I say. "You brought the Eluvian here to the Free Marches?" 

"Yes," Merrill says. "The pieces of it, anyway. It was completely shattered, and I've been trying to put it back together and cleanse it of its taint." 

I nod. "A worthwhile project, to be sure. I'll help in whatever way I can, and I'm sure some of my friends would be more than willing to lend a hand as well. There's plenty of room in this house for you, even if we had to use magic to make it." 

"Oh, really?" Merrill says. "I had been planning to just go and live in the alienage with the other elves there. But if you don't mind, this place seems nice enough. I didn't expect to find anyone willing to help me with the Eluvian... I had been planning to keep it a secret, you see..." 

"And I thought it best to have all the facts on the table from the start," Theryn says. "I'm sure if I'd left this to Merrill or Marethari, they'd have been as vague and unhelpful about what was actually going on as you accuse Asha'bellanar of being." 

"Thanks for the heads up," I say with a chuckle. 

"Anyway, I'd best be getting back," Theryn says. "I'm staying with the clan for a little bit before heading back to the Wardens. I hear they're planning an expedition into the Deep Roads. That could be interesting." 

"You may not want to go," I warn. "Or if you do go, you'd best make sure that you do _not_ get captured alive." 

"I'll take that under advisement," Theryn says grimly. "How bad is it?" 

"Horrible," I say. "That's where they get new darkspawn from... they twist women they've captured into broodmothers and force them to spawn more of their kind. I only encountered one once, and I still have nightmares about it." 

Theryn nods. "I'll make sure they don't take me. Still, these broodmothers will need to be killed if we want to have any hope of stemming their numbers." She nods to Merrill and says, "May the Dread Wolf never catch your scent, lethallan." She heads out. 

"So, it really doesn't bother you that I'm a blood mage?" Merrill asks, looking at me with big eyes as if seeking approval. 

"You know, I've used blood magic myself, and would not hesitate to use it again if it's warranted," I say. "But I wouldn't call myself a blood mage. I see no reason why I need to let that define my existence." 

"Oh," Merrill says. "I suppose that's one way of looking at it." She turns to Maraas, who has been silently watching the elves throughout our conversation. "And what about you? Don't the Qunari hate magic?" 

"They do," Maraas replies. "I am not Qunari. I am Tal-Vashoth. I have rejected their ways. And being in a house with so many _bas saarebas_ \-- mages, I should say -- I am trying to keep an open mind about it. But I do not know enough about it to know the difference between one type of magic and another, regardless." 

"Oh..." Merrill says, blinking a few times. "Well, I'm very glad that you're Tal-Vashoth, then. I don't really know any horn-heads, but you seem much friendlier than they seemed to be, always glaring at everyone that comes close to them as if they've done something wrong. Oh, I'm babbling again. Where should I put my things? Is there someplace safe that I can put the fragments of the Eluvian?" 

"Let me show you to a room you can use for now," I say. "Although if all goes well, we might be moving soon to a house that doesn't require quite so much magical expansion. Which is just as well, since actually trying to activate an Eluvian inside of a magically extended space might be a bad idea. I don't know how the different magics might interact." 

"Oh, good point," Merrill says. "Well, it'll be quite a while before it's ready to try to activate it, anyway. It's in pieces at the moment and will need to be put back together. I'll go and collect that now." She leaves the building as well. 

"Another mage," Maraas says. "And quite the energetic one at that. I just hope that she does not become possessed and kill everyone." 

"Not to worry about that," I say. "We know how to deal with that sort of thing in the unlikely event that it should actually happen." 

"What, there's an alternative to simply killing them before they can cause too much damage?" 

I snicker softly. "That's generally the most expedient means, but there are certainly ways to remove a demon without killing the person." I pause for a moment and look off at nothing, and add quietly, "I was possessed once. I made a mistake, and I paid for it. That won't happen again. I'm too dangerous to allow to be possessed. Better to die than even take the chance of it." 

"You would attempt to save someone else, but prefer to die yourself?" Maraas says in confusion. 

"Absolutely," I reply. "I'm not prepared to explain at the moment, but there are things which I can do that would be very, very bad for a demon to get a hold of even for the barest of moments." 

"You are keeping secrets again," Maraas says. 

"I know," I say. "I have more secrets than I'm generally willing to admit to having. But, it's complicated. And I doubt you'd understand the half of it anyway." 

"Probably not, but try it anyway." 

"Alright," I say. "I'm from another world. I can't die. I can go back in time. I can stop time. I am a dragon." 

"That did not seem so complicated to me," Maraas replies. 

"Tom says I should learn to summarize," I say with a smirk. "Instead of babbling on for hours at a time trying to explain something that need not be as complicated as I make it out to be." 

"I do not understand _how_ you might do it, but being able to control time would seem to be something that would indeed be very, very bad for a demon to have," Maraas says. 

"Mind you, I don't actually know how to work these powers very well," I say. "I go back in time when I die, but I'm sure that's not the limit of the power. I slow down time when I'm in danger, but I have no idea how to do it at will, or how to start time up again if it winds up stopped..." 

"You have not practiced it?" Maraas asks. 

"I will need to do so sometime," I say. "Now that I am free of the darkspawn taint. The last time I froze time... the darkspawn were still connected to me, as a Grey Warden, and they were prepared to swarm across the land unhindered, slaughtering people who were frozen in place..." 

"I see..." Maraas frowns. 

"That demon controlled me, and was able to stop time, preventing anyone else from doing anything about it. I had to take control of my body through sheer will, and... what I had to do to get rid of it... I lost-- I lost..." 

I lost my original Patronus. My precious, beloved duck, whose name was Liberty. Whose name I only learned even as I lost her. A spirit of hope and freedom, who sacrificed herself to free me. 

"But what a lot of people don't understand about possession is that in many cases, the mage in question _chose_ it," I go on, my voice cracking a little. "It may have been a really bad choice, but it was a choice nonetheless. It is not easy for demons to possess the unwilling." 

"And you chose it," Maraas says. 

"Yes," I say with a sigh. "A mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake. That demon wormed his way into my confidence, got me to trust him, tricked me... The worst ones are the ones that are clever and subtle. Perhaps things might have ended even worse had he been able to restrain himself and continue to be subtle, but he got greedy and overreached his grasp without realizing that I was still able to fight him." 

"I think you have said enough," Maraas says. "I can see that speaking of this shames you. You need not continue. You have trusted me with far more than I would have expected. I will not accuse you of harboring secrets any longer." 

I give a small nod. "Just be sure that they stay that way, please. My secrets are dangerous ones, and when they get out, bad things tend to happen." 

"No one will learn of this from me," Maraas says. 


	4. Fenris

After getting the Deep Roads maps from Duncan, we add our own additions to them. Namely, some spells to make sure that they don't get destroyed too easily, as well as a darkspawn detection enchantment. That alone should make this trip much safer for everyone involved. 

When the maps are ready, and everything is squared away for the Deep Roads expedition. Bartrand seems hardly able to believe it. In between being nervous about Saarebas, who Tom wasn't about to leave behind. 

"What, you've actually done something useful, duster?" Bartrand says, glancing up from the maps at Rispy. 

Rispy just snickers softly and gives a crooked grin. 

"Yes, and I've also sponsered you a hundred sovereigns," I say. "I'm staying home with my pregnant wife, but do be sure to bring back anything shiny you come across." 

"Well, I guess I've got to take you along, duster," Bartrand says. "You'd better be able to pull your own weight. I hope you can use those weapons you've got." 

Tom and I can no longer hold in our laughter at that. 

"Bartrand..." I say in between chuckles. 

"Oh, come on," Rispy says. "You're not going to tell him, are you? I'm having fun with this." 

I can't help but laugh some more. "Well, it's good to know you don't have a complex or anything." 

"What's so funny?" Bartrand wonders. 

"I'm not saying a word," Varric says. 

"What?" Bartrand says. "What are you hiding from me?" 

"Nothing," Tom says smoothly. "Nothing at all." 

"Let's just get going," Rispy says. "My blades are eager to taste darkspawn blood again." 

"Just do try not to get tainted," I say. 

"Yes, that would be inconvenient," Tom says. 

I bid them farewell, and head home. Things are going to be a little quieter for a while without them around. Not that things are ever entirely quiet with Jowan or Carver around. 

And even though I know that they're still nowhere near the entrance to the Deep Roads, I can't sleep that night. I keep worrying that they will die while I'm asleep, and I won't be able to go back and save them. Even though I reasonably know that it would just be more difficult. Assuming that Suzcecoz's presence here doesn't mean that something else changed. Maker, I don't even know anymore. 

I get up and pace about the kitchen. My hand is shaking. I hadn't realized just how on edge I've been since Suzcecoz showed up. I haven't been this genuinely terrified of something in a very long time. 

"Can't sleep?" Kirlin says softly, stepping into the room. 

"Worried," I reply quietly. 

"About Tom and Rispy?" 

"About the state of my soul, too," I add. 

"Suzcecoz," Kirlin hisses. 

I nod tersely. 

"This house is as safe as you can hope for at the moment," Kirlin says. "Even if someone were to rip through the wards, we'd be able to sense the intrusion in time enough to give warning about it." 

I let out a ragged sigh. "I know. You're right. No one in this house seems likely to want to try to assassinate me, anyway. I just... I don't know. Andraste's mercy, I don't know." 

"Come on," Kirlin says. "Just lay down and try to relax and get some rest. If you're so worried about it, we can have people take shifts keeping watch at night." 

"You're not keeping watch, love," I say, putting my hand on her belly. "You need your rest." I smirk. "We can get Jowan to do it." 

"Carver and Maraas would be able to keep watch just as well," Kirlin says. "They might not be mages, but they have eyes and ears." She grins. "And even Gamlen can scream like a girl if someone tries to break in." 

I head back to bed and, eventually, I think I manage to sleep a little at least. 

* * *

The others are growing tired of searching fruitlessly for Isabela, especially when she may or may not actually even be in Kirkwall at the moment. Well, except for those who don't mind hanging out at brothels and bars to begin with, but they're probably not actually spending their time keeping an eye out. Maybe that's the real reason why we haven't found her yet... 

"You are going out?" Maraas asks me as I make for the door. No one else is around at the moment. They must have gone out while I was still asleep. 

I nod to him. "Looking to scout around Lowtown a bit for anything interesting." 

"I will accompany you," Maraas says. 

"As you like," I say. 

I doubt that I'm going to catch sight of Isabela with a kossith following me around, but at least I can be assured to have a second pair of eyes on the look out for anything unusual. Although in all honesty, we're probably the most unusual thing to see in Lowtown at the moment. I was so exhausted that I slept much of the day, and the sun is already sinking behind the buildings. 

"Pardon me," says a dwarf on the street, waving to us. "Oh, pardon me. By the Paragons, you're tall!" 

"And you are short," Maraas replies, peering down at him. 

"Sorry, sorry," the dwarf says hurriedly. "I was just looking for somebody that might be available for a job, and looks strong and competent..." 

"We're strong and competent," I say with a smirk. "What's the job?" 

"I-I-I need someone to retrieve some stolen goods," the dwarf stutters. "I think they're being kept in a house in the alienage. I'm sure you won't have any trouble with it, and there's some coin in it for you if you can get it done... discreetly." 

"What sort of goods?" I ask suspiciously. 

"Um... well, it's very important, very expensive, maybe slightly, er, illegal... It's for the templars, you see. They'll get awfully cranky if they don't get it, and we don't want that, do we?" 

"You're smuggling lyrium?" I say, raising an eyebrow. 

"Keep it down!" the dwarf hisses. 

I snort softly. "Relax, I have a privacy spell up." 

"Wait. You're a mage?" 

"I am," I reply. "And not one that the aforementioned templars know about. But considering you just confessed to a crime to two random people that you thought looked vaguely competent, I have to question your own competence." 

"Ancestors, I'm bad at this," the dwarf mutters. "I should've just stayed in Orzammar. I'm sure that would have made my mother much happier. But no, I had to come to the surface..." 

"Relax, I'm not going to turn you in," I say. "Just give us the address and we'll check it out." 

"Oh. You'll take the job after all? Thank the Paragons." He tells us which house it is, and we turn to head off for the alienage. 

"Do you frequently take random jobs for coin?" Maraas asks dryly. 

"Coin is a nice bonus, but it's not why I do it," I say. "If some random person on the street asks me to find something, I go find it, whether they're paying me or not." 

"So, you still seek, no matter what it is you are seeking," Maraas says. 

"Basically," I say with a shrug. 

The elven alienage of Kirkwall is, like other alienages I've seen, dominated by a very large tree in the center of it. It's very quiet this evening, however. Too quiet, one might say. 

Sure enough, the house we were directed to is full of thugs who decidedly look like they do not belong there, not being elves. They attack us on sight, saving me the trouble of deciding whether to try to question them first. I do love solving problems with violence. It makes everything much simpler. 

Once the bandits are dispatched with blade and lightning, we search the hovel. However, aside from the bit of coin and the weapons I loot from the thugs, there's nothing of interest in here. No sign of lyrium, and the box that might have held something interesting is empty. 

"I suspect a trap," Maraas says. 

"I get that feeling, too," I say, heading for the door. "Let's be cautious. There might be more of them." 

We're not surprised at all when we step outside the house to see that we're surrounded. A number of other thugs are spread out around the alienage, all looking straight at us. 

"Wait, that's not the elf," says one of them. 

"I don't care," replies another. "Our orders were to kill anyone that entered the house. Attack!" 

"You know, what I always love about these sorts of thugs is how dumb they are," I comment absently to Maraas. 

I raise my left hand to rain down lightning upon them. There's enough of them that I don't care to fool around and take chances, instead risking some bystander noticing my use of magic and reporting me to the templars. But with this many of them, I'm likely to get killed if I don't use magic. 

As this batch of thugs drops, another man approaches from the entrance to the alienage. "You! You are interfering with the retrieval of stolen property. I have more men on the way, and you will regret this." 

"Your men are dead," says a voice, and a white-haired elven man with glowing markings on his skin steps into view behind him. "And so are you." A glowing blue aura surrounds his hand, and he reaches into the human's chest, magically passing through armor, flesh, and bone, and crushing his heart. 

I stare at the body as it drops to the ground. "That... was totally hot." 

"My name is Fenris. It appears that you did not need my help with the others here. I did not expect the dwarf to find me someone so competent." 

"Everyone's got to get lucky sometimes," I say. "Although in my case, that luck is usually bad. Anyway, I'm Lexen, and this is Maraas." 

"Not a Qunari, then, I take it," Fenris says. 

"No," Maraas agrees. 

"If I might ask, what was in the box?" Fenris says. 

"It was empty," Maraas says. 

"Ah," Fenris says. 

"This was never actually about lyrium, was it," I comment. 

"No," Fenris says. "That was merely a ruse to find help." 

"What is this about, really?" I say. "What 'stolen property' was he talking about?" 

"Namely, me," Fenris says. "I was a slave, and those men were slave hunters attempting to retrieve me and return me to my former master, Danarius." That last word comes out as nearly a snarl. 

I growl softly myself and clench my fist. "There was no need to lie about it. I would have helped, regardless. Tell me that there's more of those bastards around to kill." 

"There is something else you can help me with," Fenris says. "Danarius may still be at his mansion. If we hurry, we may be able to catch him before he flees." 

Without another word, I start marching toward the stairs to Hightown. Maraas moves into step behind me without missing a beat. 

"The help is appreciated," Fenris says. "I have some gold. I can pay." 

"You probably need it more than I do," I say. "Show us the way to the mansion." 

At least I have enough control not to be actually crackling at the moment. I'd need to be more angry than this to lose control like that. I just want to kill. 

"What can you tell us about the target?" I ask. 

"Danarius is a Tevinter magister," Fenris says. "Powerful. Dangerous." 

"Noted," I say. 

"He may have other defenses set up," Fenris says. "But he will not leave Kirkwall alive if I have anything to say about it." 

The three of us arrive at a mansion in Hightown. Perhaps I should have stopped to pick up some backup before coming here, but that might give him more time to escape. The house looks deserted at first glance, but as we step inside, shades spring forth out of the floor to attack us. 

"Danarius!" Fenris shouts as we cut through the enemies. "Face me yourself, you coward!" 

In the main hall of the house, we find a figure casually reclining in an armchair. It's no magister, however, but a woman with fiery red hair and golden eyes. Maraas clenches his spear warily. 

" _Suzcecoz?_ " I hiss. 

"Who are you?" Fenris says, taking a step forward. "Danarius's new apprentice?" 

"Stay back, Fenris," I say. "She's an abomination, and _very_ dangerous." I look toward Suzy. "What are you doing here?" 

Suzy laughs softly and slowly rises to her feet. "I thought I'd come and see Danarius's little pet for myself. I wanted to examine the magic that was used on him. I didn't expect to run across _you_ here. Are you his new master now?" 

"I am not a slave!" Fenris growls. 

"You cannot escape it," Suzy says. "No matter what you do, you will always find yourself seeking a master to command you." 

Fenris roars and raises his greatsword, and charges at Suzcecoz. 

"Fenris!" I scream. "No!" 

Time seems to slow for a moment, only for a moment, but I can't act fast enough. Suzcecoz raises a hand, and Fenris stops in his tracks. The sword falls limply from his fingers and clatters to the floor. 

"My, aren't you a willful one," Suzy says. "No, that won't do at all. Shall I just wipe your memories again, hmm?" 

"Suzcecoz..." I give a low snarl, clenching my fist. 

"What's it to you, anyway?" Suzy asks. "Oh, I suppose you'll want compensation for your property. I'll buy him off of you. Better to deal with you than Danarius, anyway." 

"He's not for sale," I snap. "Let him go." 

I'm trembling, terrified, a lot less brave than I make myself out to be. I'm no Gryffindor. Just a scared Ravenclaw who would rather be left alone. 

"Control your slave better, then," Suzy says. "I might construe this as you attempting to attack me, and respond accordingly." 

"He's not a slave," I say. 

"If you consider him not to be your property, then you have no say in it, and I can do what I like with him," Suzy says. "Is that what you're saying?" She grins wickedly at me. 

"You..." 

"Fenris, such a disobedient slave," Suzy says. "So unruly. You should take a cue from the giant over there. He's nice and faithful, waiting for his master's word before acting." 

Maraas scowls at her. "I am not a slave, either. I do not understand what is going on, but I do not believe that I wish to be involved." 

"Smart Muggle," Suzy says. "You stay back and let us mages deal with one another ourselves." 

"I don't want to fight you, Suzcecoz," I say. 

"What a pity," Suzy says. "It would be interesting to see whether you could stop time and kill me before I could destroy your soul. And I doubt you'd be capable of permanently killing me, anyway. It's not like I couldn't just get another body. So, how would you like that, Stormseeker? Constantly wondering when I'll be back for revenge, sneaking up on you to obliterate you from existence before you even know what is happening?" 

Tears sting my eyes, and I turn around. "Do what you will with him. Come, Maraas. We're leaving." 

Maraas scowls and follows me out of the house. "Perhaps I should be glad that that creature was not interested in me." 

I nod slightly. "Maraas, I'm going to go back in time to avoid this encounter. I can't save Fenris here, but maybe I can save him in another timeline." I pull out my bag of holding and hand it to him. "Take this. Do what you will with it. Tom, Rispy, and Kirlin will not be back either." 

"Farewell, Lexen." 

I call upon my Time Magic, and age myself down out of existence. Let me save Fenris. Let me fix this... 

* * *

I wake in Gamlen's hovel in Lowtown, in late afternoon. I head out again with Maraas, and go straight to the spot where we encountered the dwarf before, just to make sure that he doesn't attempt to hire anyone else and complicate things. 

I let things play out as they did before, letting hot rage and cold terror fuel my lightning magic. It's only when the thugs are all dead that I realize I'd been so focused on blind offense that several of them had tried to sneak up behind me, and Maraas had dispatched them. 

Fenris arrives, and my eyes sting and my hand trembles as I see him. He doesn't deserve whatever Suzcecoz would do to him. Why did I leave the other one with her? I'm such a coward. Such a bloody coward. I'll freely throw my life away for nothing when I know I'll come back anyway, but if my soul is actually at risk, I won't dare taking the slightest risk. 

"Lexen?" Maraas prompts. 

I'd been lost in my own thoughts, and wasn't paying attention to what Fenris was saying. Good thing I've been through this before. 

"No," I say. "Danarius won't be there." 

"How do you know?" Fenris asks. 

"Just... fuck... trust me, alright?" I say with a sigh. "I'll explain it all. Please. Come on, let's get out of here. I've got a safe place where we can talk, and you can stay there as long as you like." 

Fenris stares at me for a few moments before replying, "I suppose I will need to take him down on my own, then." He turns to leave the alienage. 

"No!" I say urgently. "He won't be there! There's an extremely powerful and dangerous abomination there instead!" 

"How do you know this?" Fenris asks again, looking back at me. 

"I... I know what will happen," I say. "I've seen the future. This is what will happen if I don't do something to change it. This abomination will take you for her own, wipe your memory again, analyze the magic that was used on you, and I don't even want to know what else. She's too powerful. I can't fight her. So all I can do is try to keep you from her. Please, come with me where it's safe." 

Fenris scowls. "I don't believe you. This is a trap. Danarius sent you, didn't he." He drops into a battle posture, and an aura of blue energy surrounds him. 

"No!" I say. "Fenris, please listen to me!" 

"No one can actually see the future," Fenris says. "And you know far too much to just be some mercenary. I was afraid the dwarf might hire the wrong person. Well, I'm not falling for it." 

"Fenris!" I shriek. 

Time slows as he moves toward me in a blur of blue light. Damn it, damn it, damn it all. I can't move fast enough. Reflexively, I flick my fingers and put up the strongest shield I can manage. A split second before he finishes closing the distance between us. Energy crackles between us as he slams up against the barrier. 

"I should have suspected you were a mage," Fenris practically spits. "You didn't kill those thugs with one hand and no weapon in it." 

"Lexen?" Maraas asks questioningly. 

"Don't help me, alright?" I say, and the Tal-Vashoth nods tersely. 

"You are quite confident in your own abilities, if you think you don't need your mercenary's assistance," Fenris says. 

"No, I'm quite sure that you can kill me," I say. "I just don't want my _friend_ getting mixed up in it. There's no need for him to die, too." 

I have no idea just what those strange glowing markings might let him do, but I'm not going to make any assumptions. My shield has already collapsed and I'm facing certain death. 

Fenris, however, pauses. He puts his hand upon my chest, and stops there. Touching me, but not phasing through me. "No magister I ever knew of would put another's life before him. Nor would one hesitate to destroy me to protect himself." 

"I swear on my life that I'm telling the truth," I whisper. "I am no magister. I believe in freedom for all beings. I will not raise a hand against you." 

"Rispy told me that you were insane, but I didn't know what he meant before now," Maraas comments dryly. 

Fenris removes his hand and steps away uncertainly. "It seems I have no choice but to go with you, then." 

"There are always choices," I say. "You could kill me right here. You could go right up to Danarius's mansion on your own. You could believe me or not as you will, and go your own way. Or... you could go with me, and get involved in an incredibly dangerous business that threatens our very lives and souls, in the hopes that I might yet be able to keep you from a fate worse than death." 

Fenris stares at me for several long moments before finally replying, "I will go with you." 

I nod. "Alright. Let's go." I head back toward the hovel, which at least isn't too far from here. We've been out on the streets entirely longer than I'm comfortable with at the moment as it is. 

Fenris gapes a little as we go in and he sees that it's much larger on the inside. "What is this place? How is this possible?" 

"Magic," I reply. 

"I have never seen magic like this before." 

"There are more things in heaven and earth... oh, never mind, I've quoted that entirely too much lately," I say. "Anyway. Let's go sit down, and I'll tell you everything." 

Fenris is too stunned at the moment to argue, and the three of us take a seat. I don't hold anything back. I tell him everything. About being from another world, the Time Magic, the immortality. But I think I do a better job of summarizing it than usual. With Suzcecoz around, I'm less concerned about my secrets getting out. She's far more of a danger than any number of people from this world knowing these things. 

Fenris lets out a heavy sigh. "This is all a little hard to believe. But I see no reason to think that you are lying. Still, I do not understand. You are a mage, and a powerful one at that. Why would you tell a stranger, an elf like me, all of your secrets? Why would you want to go out of your way to help a former slave?" 

Kirlin appears in the doorway. "Oh, we have a guest?" 

"Who is this?" Fenris wonders. 

I chuckle softly. "Kirlin, meet Fenris. Fenris, this is Kirlin. My wife." 

"Your... wife," Fenris says, eyes widening. "I see." 

"And I'm elf-blooded myself. I grew up among elves," I say. "Under slightly different circumstances, either or both of us might have ended up in your position." 

"Lexen, did something happen earlier?" Kirlin asks quietly, clearly trying to be vague. 

"It's alright," I say. "Everyone in the room knows everything now." I take in a deep breath. "Suzcecoz is in Kirkwall." 

"Shit," Kirlin whispers. "What happened? Did she kill you?" 

I shake my head. "Killed myself to make sure that we didn't walk right into the mansion where she was hanging out." I tilt my head toward Fenris. "She's interested in our new friend here, unfortunately. Hopefully not enough to cause serious problems, but this could get very bad, very fast, if we don't make our moves carefully." 

Kirlin rubs her temples. "If Tom were here, he might just want to hand over Fenris on a silver platter just to get her to go away and keep us safe." 

"Good thing he's off in the Deep Roads, then, and by the time he gets back, we'll be too mixed up in this for him to do much more than bitch a little about." 

"I do not believe that I wish this abomination to get her claws on me," Fenris mutters. 

"I'd rather not have to keep you effectively a prisoner in this house just to keep you safe," I say. "Although one thing she said made me wonder. She might have been willing to leave you be if she thought I were your new master." I make a face. "Or maybe she was just willing to give compensation for dissecting you or whatever the fuck she intended to do." I sigh. 

"I do not wish to endanger your family, either," Fenris says quietly, looking over at Kirlin. 

"If need be, I can disappear," Kirlin says. "The main issue here is that she can destroy souls. No matter what we do, we're in danger so long as she's around." 

"Don't worry, Fenris," I say. "We'll figure something out. One way or another." 


	5. Mad Science

I can't sleep at all that night. Now I'm no longer just worried about Tom and Rispy, but for myself as well. I fear for my own existence, and my respite from the darkspawn dreams is replaced with memories of Dementors surrounding Hogwarts, eager to devour the souls of anyone that they can get away with. 

I eventually wind up having to have Kirlin knock me unconscious before leaving the house, just so that I can reset to this morning rather than the previous day. I down a few potions to keep me awake and alert, and head out. 

Suzcecoz is still in Kirkwall looking for Fenris, I'm sure. She's not going to give up that easily. And he's in my house. I'm not going to be able to just hide from her. Sooner or later, she will find him, I'm sure. As skilled as Tom is, I'm not going to assume that she couldn't possibly get through his wards or locate anyone inside the house. 

Reluctantly, I go to seek her out. Perhaps she's still at Danarius's mansion. It seems as likely as anything else. I need to be ready to age myself out of a bad situation on a moment's notice. Less than a moment's notice. I'm already taking enough risk with this as it is. 

On the street in Lowtown, I'm intercepted by Jowan. "Lexen, glad I caught you. The woman you had us keep an eye out for is in the Hanged Man right now." He takes a good look at me. "Andraste's tits, Lexen, you look like the Void. What happened?" 

"Never mind that," I say, heading for the Hanged Man. "I need to have a little talk with Isabela." 

I really don't care about the Tome of Koslun. Compared to a threat to my existence, this seems like a trivial task. And yet here I am, going after it anyway, out of, what, some misplaced sense of obligation? I don't know. Perhaps I'm just obsessed with compulsively solving problems and finding lost objects. That would explain a lot. 

Stepping into the Hanged Man tavern in front of Jowan, I spot the woman I immediately recognize as the one who put me on my ass in Denerim that one time, although she's wearing a head scarf now. And looks like she's put on more of a tan. And... oh, forget about it, I'd be completely unable to recognize her at all if I hadn't just cast a silent Naming Charm on her. 

"Your information is worth nothing, so that is what I'll pay you," Isabela says to a group of lowlifes, and then proceeds to intimidate them just about as well as she did me when they refuse to take that for an answer. The thugs scatter. 

I chuckle softly and approach her, leaning against the bar. "That's your own fault for hiring that sort of scum. If you need something done right, you should come to _me_. I'm the best, whether it's information gathering, search and retrieval, rescue, or just efficiently killing something..." 

"And who might you be?" Isabela asks, looking over at me skeptically, her eyes resting upon my missing hand. 

"The name's Lexen," I reply. "But there are some who call me 'The Stormseeker'." I grin at her. 

"You certainly look like a different cut from those fools," Isabela says with a smirk. "Although whether that's better or worse is open for debate." 

"For the right price, I'll solve all your problems," I say. "And if I can't, I'm not going to whine like a little bitch when you don't want to pay me." 

Isabela sighs. "Fine. But not a copper unless you can actually deliver. I'm looking for a relic, you see..." 

"What sort of relic?" I ask. "Let's take this discussion into private, shall we?" 

"Are you looking for a job, or trying to get into my pants?" 

"Hmm," I say thoughtfully. "I'd say I'm married, but that's hardly stopped me before. I'd say you're not my type, but you _are_ completely hot, especially when you're kicking the asses of morons. So how about I just say that I'm not trying to get into your pants _right now_?" 

Isabela chuckles. "I like that answer." 

We head back to Varric's room, who is still out of town, and the three of us take a seat. 

"So, what exactly are we looking for, here?" Jowan asks. 

"It's a book," Isabela explains. "I don't know what's in it. I can't read the language. But certain parties will find it very valuable." 

"What is it? Tevinter?" Jowan wonders. 

"I'm really not sure," Isabela says hesitantly, looking around nervously. 

"Relax," I say. "The more information we have, the better chances we have of actually finding it. I'm sure there are a lot of books in the city, after all. I'm not about to judge you either way." 

Isabela pauses for a moment and then continues reluctantly. "It's... Qunari. It's like, some sort of holy artifact to them." 

"And I'm sure this has nothing to do with the Qunari sitting out in the docks district," I comment dryly. I lean closer, lowering my voice a bit, unnecessarily as I have a privacy charm up, although Isabela doesn't know that. "They're here looking for it, aren't they. And I imagine they want you dead, too." 

"They... might be looking for it, too, yes," Isabela says nervously. "And I do my best to avoid them. If any Qunari found me, they might try to kill me, or worse." 

I give a short nod. "And what were you intending on doing with it instead? Selling it for an exhorbitant price to someone else?" 

Isabela shakes her head. "No... A man named Castillon wants it, and he'll kill me if I don't get it from him." 

"So you're effectively stuck between threats of death from the Qunari, and threats of death from this Castillon?" I say, raising an eyebrow. "And in the midst of all this, you have no idea where the book disappeared to. I can see why you're so desperate to find it." I lean back. "Alright. I can make all your problems go away. For the right price." I grin at her. 

I'm not actually interested in the money, but I know her type. She's not going to trust an offer like this from pure altruism. Let her see a skilled mercenary, and not a crazy guy who will help anyone on the street who asks for him to find their lost puppy. 

"And what might this price be?" Isabela asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"Let's get to the real heart of the matter. You're not actually interested in the book. I'll get both the Qunari and Castillon off your back... but I get to keep the book." 

Isabela scowls thoughtfully for a few moments before shaking her head. "No. This sounds too good to be true. Who sent you? Who are you working for? The Tevinters? The Orlesians? Someone else entirely?" 

I sigh. So much for that idea. 

"We're not--" Jowan begins, but I raise my hand and interrupt him. 

"Let me handle this, Jowan." I sigh and rub my forehead. "You're too perceptive, Isabela. But no, I'm not working for the Tevinters or the Orlesians. And I want the Qunari to go away just as much as you do." 

"Start talking," Isabela says, and her daggers are in her hands in the blink of an eye. 

Jowan tenses, and I say aside to him, "Relax." 

"How can you be so calm when someone is pointing a blade at your throat?" Jowan wonders. 

"That's what I'd like to know," Isabela says. 

"Forgive me for not panicking," I say. "Honestly, I'm a mage and I doubt you could touch me anyway, but that's beside the point. Now, you want to know who I'm working for? Myself, generally, but in this case, I just want to return the book to the Qunari so they'll go away and leave me alone." 

"A mage? Working for the Qunari?" Isabela says, narrowing her eyes. 

"Technically, I _am_ a Qunari," I say. "Sort of. Well, I convinced them I was enough of one primarily for the sake of learning about their technology, at least." I sigh. "I put on that damned act for twelve years. I'm _not_ going back to Par Vollen now. And I'm certainly not going to let them find out that I'm a mage." 

Isabela relaxes a bit and backs up again, looking at me appraisingly. " _That_ I can believe. But... _You're_ a Qunari?" 

"Call me Tal-Vashoth if you like," I say. "Although I'd rather that the Arishok not find out that I don't exactly entirely espouse their philosophy any longer, and never really did to begin with." 

"I think she means that you don't exactly have horns on your head," Jowan says. 

I snort softly. "I'm not a kossith, no." 

"Fine. Fine," Isabela says, still looking a little confused and distrustful. "But if you gave the book to the Qunari, what about Castillon? He'll kill me!" 

"Simple," I say. "I murder him. Problem solved." 

"You looked entirely too gleeful when you said that, Lexen," Jowan says. 

"You'd be surprised how many problems can be solved by simply killing the right person," I reply. 

"And you love your work," Jowan says with a smirk. 

"I'm not even going to wonder if you can kill him," Isabela says. "And all this just because you want the Qunari to go away?" 

I nod. "You know what they'll do to me if they find out I've gone rogue? Sending me back for re-education at the least, and that's only if they _don't_ find out I'm a mage. Then I'll be in chains, with my lips sewn shut or my tongue cut out, if they don't just kill me for fear that I might be possessed." 

"Why did you even go to Par Vollen in the first place, with that sort of attitude they have?" Jowan wonders. 

"I told you, to learn about their technology," I say. 

"So you know how to make their explosive powder?" Isabela asks. 

"Know how to make it? I invented a new variety of it. But I'm certainly not going to do anything with that knowledge with _them_ in town." 

"Hmm," Isabela says thoughtfully, then nods and puts her weapons away. "Alright. I'll trust your motivations. I'll tell you everything I know about what might have happened to the book, and maybe we can track it down." 

I nod. "We can find the blighted thing and save both of our asses." I sigh. "However, I hate to say this, but can we meet up and discuss the details later, this evening perhaps? I've got something important I need to take care of that I put off to make sure to catch you." I give her directions to Gamlen's house. "If you ever need a place to hide, you can go there, too. The place is well-defended." 

"I'll keep that in mind," Isabela says. "I'll meet you there this evening, then." 

"Great," I say. "Jowan, can you round up everyone and let them know that they can stop casing the brothels for her?" 

"You've been watching the brothels for me?" Isabela says, blinking. "You know me better than I thought." 

I snicker softly. "You'd be surprised." I grin at her. "And I know if I didn't use magic, you'd have me on my ass in a minute." 

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Isabela says innocently. 

I chuckle and stand, and bid her good day before returning home to get Kirlin to stun me again before going out to find Suzcecoz. At least I've made progress on one issue here, even if it's the less threatening one. Still, I'm feeling a bit better about things in general as I head back up to Hightown toward Danarius's mansion. 

Inside, a group of shades emerge from the floor to surround me. I roll my eyes and say, "It's just me, Suzy. You can cut the theatrics. I'm just here to talk." 

The shades stare at me for a long moment, and I start to wonder if they're going to attack anyway, but they vanish again and allow me to walk through the house unmolested. Suzcecoz is in the main room where I saw her before, although the device she's working on is new. It's all full of pipes and valves and tubes and vials, and I have no idea what it might be for. 

"I was wondering if anyone was going to show up, after Fenris disappeared off my radar," Suzy says. 

"You've been tracking him?" I ask. 

"How do you think I even knew he was in Kirkwall in the first place?" Suzy says with a shrug. "So, I take it you swiped him instead?" 

"I did," I reply. "Uh... what exactly are you working on there?" 

"Oh, this?" Suzy looks back to the device. "An ethereal harmonic analyzer and mana converter. I'm measuring the resonance of the Veil in the vicinity of Kirkwall, as I have determined that it is weaker here than elsewhere. This could allow for a greater proportional availability of magical energy in order to power my machines. This place is such a backwater, though. I have such primitive materials to work with here. I feel like I'm having to reinvent the wheel here!" 

"You're... a scientist?" I say, raising an eyebrow. 

"Yes!" Suzy says excitedly. "The Elkandu think me mad for analyzing magic and trying to figure out how things really work. I think them mad for never questioning their world or everything they take for granted!" 

The machine fizzes, whirs, pops, and spins. I have no idea what any of those noises might mean. 

"You know, you're really not seeming as evil or insane as you did when you appeared at Haven," I comment. "You know, when you randomly destroyed a man's soul just because you could." 

Suzcecoz shrugs. "What's he to me? Did _you_ even know his name?" 

"No, but that's not the point," I say. 

"Why should you care about what happens to some redshirt?" Suzy wonders. "I just needed to make my point to make sure you wouldn't do anything foolish and mess with me." 

"'Redshirt'?" I repeat. 

"Never mind," Suzy says. "We're not going to have problems here, are we? 

I sigh. "Frankly, you aren't my problem. So long as you're not messing with me or mine, I don't care what you do. You're not worth the trouble or the risk of trying to deal with." 

"I didn't think you'd want to fuck with a Soul Mage anymore than I want to fuck with a Time Mage," Suzy says with a smirk. "Fine. I don't interfere with you, you don't interfere with me, we're good." 

"Good. Good," I say, nodding and relaxing a little. "So... out of curiosity, just how did you get here, anyway?" 

"I Traveled," Suzy replies. "Or did you mean how I got to Thedas? I used the Nexus, of course." 

"I mean, how did you get to this time period?" I say. 

"Huh?" Suzy wonders. "What are you talking about?" 

I stare at her for a moment. "I was in this world before. Before I accidentally time froze myself for five hundred years. Then I came back to the same moment I was in before. I time traveled back here! But if we're five hundred years in the past in this world, how could you have come here from five hundred years in the future on the Torn Elkandu side? Argh! Time travel hurts my head sometimes." 

"Hmm, fascinating," Suzy says. "I didn't even realize any such thing was going on. When I came through the Nexus to follow you, this was when and where I ended up." She stalks away from her machine to pace thoughtfully across the room. "Perhaps you left a temporal resonance... no, that can't be it. A nexal connection? Hmm, perhaps the Nexus is normally capable of traveling through time in the first place, but the Elkandu were too stupid to even consider it?" 

I shake my head. "I've tried it before, and it didn't work unless the person activating it had Time Magic through a Soul Bond to me." 

"But perhaps it worked because all I did was bring up preset coordinates rather than attempt to generate a path to a new temporal location on my own?" Suzy says thoughtfully. "This is fascinating! I shall need to study this. This might herald a major breakthrough in quantum dynamics!" 

The idea of someone like Suzcecoz uncovering the secrets of Time Magic is utterly terrifying to me. "If you say so. Good luck with that." 

She's already rambling on technobabble about experiments to attempt. I bid her farewell and slip out of the mansion again, and she doesn't even seem to notice that I've left, having stopped paying attention to me in favor of her own thoughts. 

I return to Gamlen's house, feeling much relieved on one hand, and extremely disquieted on the other hand. And I feel like the relief was the hand that got bitten off. 

Kirlin and Fenris are sitting in the main room, waiting for me when I get back. "How did it go?" Kirlin asks with a worried tone. 

"I don't think she'll be bothering us," I say. "I don't know what sort of random atrocities she might commit to anyone else in Thedas, but she'll leave alone me and anyone under my protection. That's probably about the best that could be hoped for, I suppose." 

I don't think I care to share my concerns about her experiments. Right now, the full force of my exhaustion is returning to me, leaving me dead on my feet. 

"That's good to know," Fenris says, shoulders slumping a bit. "Was Danarius even ever in Kirkwall, or was it only this abomination the entire time?" 

"I don't know," I say. "I think it was just Suzcecoz." I shake my head. "Either way, she's squatting in his mansion now, and I've a feeling that she means to stay there for the time being." 

"So long as she's not bothering us..." Kirlin says with a sigh. "I just hope she doesn't cause any serious problems, even if it's not directed at us." 

"We can worry about that when it comes to it," I say. "Isabela said she'd come over tonight to talk about the relic. I'm going to take a much-needed nap. Wake me when she shows up, alright?" 


	6. Mages in Trouble

It turns out that Isabela's information isn't quite as helpful as I might have hoped for. She hadn't been able to track down the thing herself, and all she could tell us was that one of her former crewmates had taken it. 

"Can't we just use magic to locate it?" I say, remembering Keolah's knack for being able to find absolutely anything. 

"Not likely," Kirlin says. "The only one of us who has even seen it is Isabela, and she's not even a mage. Besides, it's a purely mundane object. Having a unique magical signature would make it easier to search for." 

"What about looking for these former crewmates of hers?" I suggest. 

"That could be done," Kirlin says. "Unfortunately, it would be a lot easier if we had a bit of them. Some hair, a drop of blood, something." 

Our discussion is interrupted by a knock on the door, and I go to see who it is. Anders is standing in the doorway. "Come on in. You know you don't need to knock, don't you? You're as welcome here as the rest of us." 

"Thanks," Anders says, stepping inside. "I need your help." 

"Anything," I say, gesturing at him to take a seat. 

Anders lets out a heavy sigh as he slumps down into a chair. "It's my friend, Karl..." 

"Your lover?" Kirlin says, raising an eyebrow. 

Anders flushes pink. "Yes," he says. "I wish we'd been able to take him with us when we escaped from Kinloch Hold. He's here in Kirkwall, now. He was sent to provide new talent for the Kirkwall Circle. But... I'm afraid for him. There's too many rumors of how bad things are at the Gallows." 

"We'll get him out of there, then," I say. "We'll make sure he's safe." 

"I've been trying to get messages in to him, but I'm afraid they might have been intercepted by the templars," Anders says. "He agreed to meet me in the Chantry tonight." 

"I take it you came here because you want backup in case of trouble?" I say, and Anders nods. "Alright. I've got your back." 

I'd feel better with Tom and Rispy at my side, but I'll have to settle for Jowan and Maraas tonight. I've started to think of them in my head as the B-team. They don't have lifetimes of experience, but they aren't too terrible at what they do. Admittedly, Jowan's an excellent blood mage and a pathetic regular mage. Best to go with what you're good at, so it's a good thing he's an apostate. 

We meet Anders outside the Chantry. "I haven't seen any templars yet," Anders whispers. "But we'd best be careful and keep an eye out, anyway." 

The four of us head inside. I gesture to Maraas to watch our flank and make sure no one sneaks up on us, not that templars are exactly the stealthiest people around in their heavy armor. We follow Anders up the stairs, and find a mage waiting for us. Karl slowly turns around to reveal blank eyes and a sun marking on his head. 

"Anders..." Karl says in a monotone. 

"Fuck, they've made him Tranquil!" I hiss. 

Anders looks stricken. "No... no... Not Karl! Not you!" 

"Templars are trying to sneak up on us," Maraas puts in helpfully. 

"This was a trap," Jowan says with a note of dread. 

Rage crackles around me. I didn't know Karl as well as Anders, but he was still a good man. I don't even stop to wonder if the templars are here to attack us or not. Lightning rains down upon the armored men. A smite of blue energy slams into me, sending me flying against the far wall, weakened and drained of mana. 

I'm glad to have Maraas along. At least one of us won't be hindered by the templars' abilities. And Jowan relies more on blood magic than anything else, which even templar powers have difficulty fully stopping. 

Painfully, I climb to my feet. Anders is down, too. Maraas is putting up a good fight, and blood swirls in the air around Jowan. Anders might be squeamish about blood magic, but I'm not. Time to destroy these destroyers of lives. I pull out a knife, and realize that it would be hard to slice my palm when I only have one hand. Bah, it doesn't matter where the wound is, I just need blood. I cut a long gash down my right arm, and let the power of the dragon's blood surge through me. Templars fall like leaves under the subsequent blast of raw power. 

Once all of my enemies have been defeated, I stumble back, drained, blood still dripping from the wound. 

"You're both so quick to turn to blood magic..." Anders says. 

"Would you prefer dying?" I ask. 

"When you put it that way, no, not really," Anders replies, then sobers again as he turns to Karl. "Oh, Karl, why did this have to happen to you? This is horrible." 

"I feel no horror," Karl replies. "I am quite content with my situation." 

"Whatever made you Karl is gone," Anders says softly. "Whatever part of you loved me is lost forever." 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Karl wonders. 

It's then that I see Anders has pulled out a knife. "Anders, wait," I say quickly, realizing what he means to do. 

"Why?" Anders says, voice cracking. "Better to end it now than to leave him like this, like a man who is dead but still breathes." 

"We may be able to cure him," I say. 

"You can't cure a beheading," Anders says. 

"We were able to turn a dwarven woman into a mage," I reply. "Give us a chance. We might be able to find an answer." 

Anders sighs and lowers the knife. "It's too much to hope for. But if there's any chance, any chance at all, I'll take it." 

"Come on, Karl," I say. "Let's go, before more templars show up." 

"You should not fight the templars," Karl says, not budging. "You have all been very disobedient. You should turn yourselves in and return to the Circle." 

"Great, and they've brainwashed you on top of everything else?" Anders says with a groan. 

I sigh. "We don't have time for this," I mutter, and pull out my wand and point it at Karl. " _Imperio_." 

While I'm capable of casting the Unforgivable Curses, I never liked using them. Or rather, I wind up liking using them _too_ much, and it kind of scares me. 

Karl's mind feels strange. Although my spell takes control of him readily enough, something still feels odd about it, scattered and disconnected. Probably some side-effect of having been made Tranquil. I don't know what to make of it, and I don't have time to think too hard about it right now. I command him to follow me and quickly make my way out of the Chantry. 

I'm on edge all the way back to Lowtown, constantly looking over my shoulder, alert for ambushes. But the way back is quiet, and once inside Gamlen's hovel, I let out a heavy breath and slump into a chair. 

"Will he-- Will he be alright here for now?" Anders asks, looking uneasily at Karl. 

"We'll keep him safe," I say. "Kirlin and I will take a look at him in the meantime. We haven't really had a chance to study the Tranquil in depth before. If we can't find an answer, Tom and Rispy will be back from the Deep Roads soon enough. Rispy's contacts back in Orzammar are the ones who figured out how to make a dwarf a mage." 

Anders gives a nod. "Let me know if you have any success. I'd really like to have the old Karl back. But right now... I just can't look at him like this anymore. I'll be in my clinic." He turns and leaves the house. 

Leaving Karl with Jowan, I head back through the house to look for Kirlin, and find her in back helping Merrill with her mirror. She's been doing that quite a bit, lately. 

"Kirlin," I say gently. "Another issue just came up." I tilt my head at her to come out and talk. 

"What happened?" Kirlin asks. "You're bleeding!" She sends healing magic through my body, sealing up the wound in my arm. 

"Forgot about that," I say. 

We head out down the hallway and take Karl off to a side room to examine him in private. "Can you still go back and prevent this?" Kirlin wonders. 

"Karl, when were you made Tranquil?" I ask. 

"Three days ago," Karl replies. 

I sigh and shake my head. "Too late to fix this readily." 

"Still, this could be a good opportunity to figure out how their Tranquility ritual works, and how to counter it," Kirlin says. 

"Indeed," I agree, looking at Karl. "I've got him under the Imperius Curse. I don't know what else the templars did to him to make him so compliant with their wishes, too. As if just making him a Squib weren't bad enough..." 

"If there's an answer, we'll figure it out," Kirlin says. "Somehow." 

"I hope so," I say, turning away with a sigh. "It's just not right that anyone should be able to take away what is an inherent part of us like that." 

* * *

"Lexen," Fenris says, coming into the dining area one morning. "Interested in hunting down some slavers with me?" 

"Absolutely," I reply with a wicked grin. 

I call for Jowan and Maraas, and we follow Fenris out to the docks district. Glancing uneasily toward the Qunari compound as we pass by it, I feel like they're glaring out at me, waiting for me to fulfill my duty. 

"I've discovered that there are slavers operating out of some warehouses in the docks," Fenris says. 

I don't know how he learned this. It doesn't really matter, I don't think. I'd love to be able to stop slavery throughout the multiverse, but if I can put a damper on the trade in Kirkwall at least, I'll be happy. 

We arrive at one of the many seeming identical warehouses in Kirkwall. There's definitely activity of some sort inside. Men shouting, a woman's voice screaming. 

"Get her hands!" says a man. "I hear they can't do magic if you tie their hands!" 

"You know nothing about magic!" roars the woman in an echoing voice that is suddenly no longer the least bit feminine. 

I charge into the room in time to see the young woman's body warping and twisting into an abomination. Shit. 

"Focus on the slavers," I bark to my companions. "I'll deal with the abomination." 

I leave the thugs to Fenris, Jowan, and Maraas, and turn my attention to the abomination. A rage demon, from the looks of things. There's probably no use in trying to calm her down until after the threats have been eliminated, but I try anyway. Fortunately, my companions are quick in dispatching the would-be slavers. 

"Stay back," I warn my companions, and raise my hands toward the abomination cautiously. "It's alright. Your enemies have been slain. We're your friends. You're safe now. We're here to help." 

The abomination roars at me and tries to attack, but I keep a shield firmly up between us. She can't hurt me. 

"She's lost, Lexen," Fenris says quietly. "You can't reason with her." 

"I'm damned well going to try," I reply. "I know what dealing with demons is like." I sigh. "I know when you come to the point where you'd do absolutely anything just for the sake of survival..." 

I know perfectly well that I might still do the same. I'd run afoul of demons and suffered for it, but if my existence were seriously threatened? If Suzy were actively hunting me down with soulfire? I might just take the chance, even knowing what the consequences may be. I really can't blame this girl for turning to demons to save herself. 

But the rage demon either doesn't understand or doesn't care that the girl's enemies are dead. It continues to batter against the shield, flailing about in blind anger, mindless fury. 

I sigh and turn away. "Take care of her. It looks like there's only one thing that can be done, if I want to save her." I take out my bag of holding and pass it to Maraas. "I'm going back." 

Maraas and Fenris nod to me in understanding as Jowan looks on in confusion. I don't care to stop and explain it to them, however. I draw upon my Time Magic to reverse my age and send myself back. 

* * *

I wake, and waste no time preparing and gathering up my companions to head out to the docks district. 

"You meant to go after these slavers as well?" Fenris says in confusion as he's the one who is following me this time. 

I don't answer, focused upon my goal. I need to get there faster this time. A few minutes is probably all it would take to make a difference. Storming into the warehouse, I unleash a tempest of lightning upon the slavers without pausing, without a second thought. 

The young woman is there, looking stunned to be untouched in the midst of such destruction. "Maker's breath..." she murmurs. 

"Are you alright?" I ask, stepping up toward her. 

She nods hesitantly, as if still uncertain that I'm not here to hurt her as well. "Who-- Who are you? Did my father send you?" 

"I don't even know who you are or who your father is," I reply. "I just don't like slavers. Go on. You're free to go. And if you ever need a place to hide out for a while, my home is always open to you." I give her some quick directions, and she nods and rushes out of the warehouse. 

We quickly search the place for evidence of who they're selling to, and if they're still in Kirkwall, and find the name of someone in Darktown who has connections to the Tevinter Imperium. 

"I think we'd best go pay a visit to one Danzig," I say. "It sounds like they've snared in someone else, too." 

"We'd best be quick about this," Fenris says. "It will be difficult to retrieve them if we don't catch them before they're taken out of Kirkwall." 

We hurry to Darktown and locate Danzig after some searching. 

"Do you have merchandise for me?" Danzig asks, looking over Fenris appraisingly. 

"I am not a slave!" Fenris roars, glowing and plunging his hand into the slaver's chest. 

"Hold it, Fenris, we need answers from him first," I say. "Unless he's conveniently carrying a note in his pocket telling us everything we want to know." 

"Speak quickly," Fenris growls to Danzig, not removing his hand. 

"What do you want to know?" Danzig says, eyes wide in panic. 

I pull out the note that we'd found in the docks warehouse. "This mentions the recent sale of a male mage. Where is he?" 

"He was taken to a cave on the Wounded Coast, a slavers' holdout!" Danzig says. "I can show you the location if you let me go!" 

"No need," Fenris says. "I know which one you're talking about." He squeezes, and Danzig gasps and goes limp after a moment. 

"I do hope you're right," I say. "You'll take full responsibility if we wind up spending all day wandering around the coast?" I smirk. 

"Yes," Fenris says. "Let's go." 

I let Fenris lead the way out of the city, and we trek across the rugged hills near the Waking Sea. He brings us to a cave full of some thugs who aren't feeling especially social, and the four of us proceed to hack our way through. 

When we reach the back of the cave, we come upon a man on a catwalk ahead of us, holding a blade to a young man's neck. "Take another step, and the boy dies!" 

I snort softly. "Don't waste your breath." 

I don't give him the chance to think about what's about to happen. I snap off several quick spells to shield the young mage, disarm the slaver, separate them, and then electrocute the slaver. It almost manages to go off as well as I intended it to, as well. Unfortunately, the mage panics and staggers into the path of my lightning bolt. Damn it! I should have used a better targetted spell. My own attack shatters the protections I'd just put on the young mage, and he screams and falls off the catwalk. A quick reflex from me floats him gently to the floor, and I rush up to his side. 

"Take care of the slavers!" I bark to my friends, working on quickly trying to heal the boy. 

"Ow, you just about killed me!" the boy yells. At least it's a good sign that he's healthy enough to bitch at me. 

"Sorry about that," I say, still working on channeling healing magic into him as my friends slice apart the remaining slavers. "What's your name, kid?" 

"Faenriel. Did my mother send you for me? Or the templars?" 

I snort again. "No, I'm not a Circle Mage, and the tattooed elf and the horned giant are not templars." I smirk at him. "We're a Grey Warden, an apostate, an escaped slave, and a former Qunari." 

Faenriel stares at me. "That seems a really unlikely group..." 

"You're telling me!" Jowan shouts as he fries the last enemy in the room. 

I laugh aloud at that. "You should see the rest of my friends! Anyway, feeling better now, Faenriel? Think I've healed most of the damage I inflicted. Sorry about that again. If you're still hurting, we can take you back to Kirkwall and Kirlin or Anders can take a look at you. They're better healers than I am." 

"I'm fine," Faenriel says, standing up and brushing himself off. "Just... Where am I to go now? I started having some bad dreams, and my mother suddenly wanted to send me off to the Circle!" 

" _I'm_ certainly not going to make you go anywhere near the Gallows," I reply. "I'd sooner cut off my other hand. And that would be quite the trick, let me tell you. We've got a nice place in Lowtown you can hide out if you need a place to stay for a bit." 

"Thanks for the offer," Faenriel says. "But I think I might try my luck with the Dalish. My mother is Dalish, and maybe they can help me out." 

I nod. "Well, the offer is open as something to fall back on if that doesn't pan out." 

We part ways, and return to Kirkwall. Two would-be slaves freed, and a lot of slavers dead. I'd call that a good day's work. 


	7. Hope for Broken Souls

"We're back from the Deep Roads," Rispy says cheerfully as he comes inside, followed by Tom. "Did we miss anything?" 

"I helped some people avoid slavery," I say. "And failed to find a damned Qunari book. So, what happened down in the Deep Roads?" 

"You want ol' Rispy to tell you the story, huh?" Rispy says. "Well, let's just sit down and get some tea, and--" 

Tom holds up his hand and cuts him off. "We found a lyrium idol. Bartrand stole it and stranded us. Then we got out and came home." 

"You're no fun," Rispy says, pouting at Tom. 

"I didn't care to sit here for the next five hours while you rambled about how we saved that idiot dwarf," Tom says dryly. 

"What happened to Saarebas?" I ask. 

"See?" Rispy says to Tom. "If you'd just let me tell the story, we wouldn't have to explain that now." 

"What's to explain?" Tom says with a shrug. "He's dead." 

"Like, how it happened, maybe?" Rispy says. "Lexen's always overly concerned about people, after all." 

"He got the blight sickness," Tom says. "I couldn't be bothered to perform a Ritual of Purification for him, so I put him down." 

"I... see," I say hollowly at him. 

"You going to be upset about that now?" Tom says, smirking and stepping up close to me. 

"I'm not really happy about it," I say. "We could have saved him. He didn't have to die." 

"He was already dead anyway, you know," Tom says. 

"He was a slave. He never had a chance to be anything else." 

"If you're so fussed about it, I'll go find you another pet Saarebas," Tom says with a snort. 

"That's not the point," I say, then shake my head. "Just... never mind. I can't really expect anything else from you." 

Tom stares at me quietly for several moments before saying, "I'm going to go talk to Mum. I want a new house." He turns and walks off. 

I sigh inwardly. I'd been worried about him and Rispy. I'm been so worried, even though their bonds held steady and they hadn't died at all on their expedition. Now, I just don't know what to think anymore. 

* * *

It's not long before we move out of Gamlen's hovel and into the old Amell estate, now the Hawke estate. We do, however, leave most of the enchantments on the Lowtown house intact in case we need a safehouse down there. And Gamlen is still living there, too. We did scale it down to a less extreme expansion, although it's still far nicer than a tiny, rundown hovel. 

Merrill's Eluvian is carefully moved to a room in the new house, with buffered wards placed around the room to make sure that there's no magical interference on way or another. I'm hopeful to get it working. I want an alternative to the Nexus for travel between worlds. 

Because I did try to return to the Nexus again, just to test and find out. And discovered that it's inactive again, and Torn Elkandu deserted. I died trying to get there, shortly after getting half a glimpse of a darkened, silent city underneath the swirling purple sky. 

I don't understand what's going on. But I really hope that Suzcecoz doesn't figure it out first. She's dangerous enough as it is without having access to time travel herself somehow. 

"I never thought I'd actually be living in this house," Malcolm Hawke comments as he strides through the mansion. 

"It certainly beats Lowtown," Tom says. "I don't have to cast a Bubble-Head Charm every time I step outside the door here in Hightown." 

"I do have to wonder about these dwarves that you seem to have picked up somewhere," Malcolm says, peering at Bodahn Feddic and Sandal. 

"Are we bothering you or in the way, Messere Hawke?" Bodahn says. 

"No, just wondering why you're here," Malcolm says. "Although with all the various vagabonds that have assembled, I probably shouldn't ask." 

"Well, you see, in the Deep Roads, your son saved my son's life," Bodahn says. "So to repay him, I have sworn to serve him." 

"I told you that was completely unnecessary," Tom says. 

"However, if you're going to offer Sandal's enchanting services and are willing to fence whatever junk we might collect, I for one won't complain," I put in. 

"Enchantment?" Sandal says, wide-eyed. 

Tom glances sidelong at me, and then gives the dwarves a cold look. "Fine. You'd best make yourselves useful, though." 

"Oh, we will, we will!" Bodahn assures him. 

* * *

The baby is born. She looks just like me, with black hair and green eyes, although her ears are much pointier. I don't think anything of that until I remember that the elves in this world always produce humans when they breed with humans, for some reason. 

"Are you certain that this is your child?" Fenris wonders after seeing her. 

"Of course," I reply. 

Kirlin snorts softly and says, "There's no way she could be anything else. Besides, I haven't exactly slept with any elves, ever." 

"Well, my grandmother's an elf, so maybe the elf blood is just coming out again," I speculate. 

Or, more to the point, perhaps the elven genes from my homeworld are coming out. The elves there look a little different, and crossbreeds definitely show traits from both parents. My own ears are slightly pointed, and I'm only a quarter elf, and my mother and her sister definitely have pointed ears, if smaller than my grandmother's. 

Tom is inexplicably distant throughout the entire thing. He tries to act casual, but the warmth and affection is lacking. I have no idea what might be wrong. I can't just leave that be. One night, while I think we have the house to ourselves, I approach him. Kirlin is occupied with the baby, Merrill is busy with her mirror, the others are either asleep or out investigating rumors of dragons at a mine down the coast. I didn't care to actually have to fight a dragon if the rumors happen to be true, which they probably are. 

"Lexen," Tom says as I come into his room. "Is there a problem?" 

I close the door behind me and put up some quick spells to make sure that we aren't interrupted, just in case. Lock the door, muffle the sound, ward it as well. 

"That's really unnecessary," Tom says. "I already have plenty of wards on it." 

"I'm paranoid," I reply, stepping up toward him. 

"What's this about, Lexen?" Tom asks. 

"I'm wondering that myself," I say. "Ever since you got back from the Deep Roads, you've been... distant. Did something happen down there that you aren't telling me about?" 

Tom narrows his eyes at me. "Lexen. Don't push." 

"Or what?" I say. "What are you going to do?" 

Tom glares. "You want to know what the problem is? You are. You and the sorts of people you attract. How Rispy dragged me along to rescue that moronic dwarf. I see it more and more, that you're all about saving people, helping people, utter _foolishness_." 

"I've _always_ been like that," I protest. 

"And I am frankly getting quite sick of it. There's nothing I like better than watching you hurt and kill. And while we were out doing that in one world or another, that was fine. Even when you'd settled down with Cassie and were raising a family, you never stopped doing that. Now? You send out others to do your killing for you." 

"What did you really expect of me?" I wonder. 

"I expect that you'll hang around Kirkwall for the next decade, at least, and accomplish nothing," Tom replies, turning away. 

"What the fuck?" I take a step closer to him. 

Tom spins around and grabs my shoulder, and pins me against the wall. "Don't." 

"What do you want of me, Tom?" 

"I'm working on figuring out a way to take your power," Tom hisses, leaning close to me. 

" _What?_ " I shriek. 

"If I can break off enough of your soul that it will still carry your Time Magic," Tom whispers. "Then I step through the Eluvian and... never see you again." 

My entire body is shaking. "Tom..." I utter, my voice cracking. 

"I've been speaking with Suzcecoz, you know," Tom says. "It turns out that she's quite the expert in Soul Magic. She has some pointers on how to accomplish this." 

My heart is pounding. I can hardly believe what I'm hearing. Would he really do such a thing? I thought he loved me! 

"Of course, it would be much simpler if I were willing to destroy you in order to do it," Tom says lightly. "Or even to reduce your existence to a little voice in my head. You could even watch. You could be with me forever that way, hmm? Wouldn't you like that?" 

"No!" I snap. A crackling aura of electricity surrounds my body involuntarily, and Tom releases me and steps away hastily. 

"Or would you let the world burn instead?" Tom says with a wicked grin. 

"You will _not_ do this to me," I snarl, clenching my fist. "They can _all_ burn." 

"That's what I thought," Tom says with a smug smirk. "I was wondering how far I would have to push you." 

"Are you _toying_ with me?" I growl. 

Tom laughs lightly. "I've been manipulating you since the moment we met. _You_ know this." 

I should be more upset about that statement. But I know perfectly well that he has been. 

"Yes," I murmur, letting my eyes slide shut. 

Tom puts both of his hands on my shoulders. "Destroy all those who oppose you. Crush everything in your path. Give no mercy, show no doubt, bear no regret." 

"I don't know if I can do that last part," I say quietly. 

Tom chuckles darkly. "Fair enough. Why don't we put on some disguises and Bubble-Head Charms and head down to Lowtown or Darktown, and see if there's any dirty work to scrounge up, or at least some idiotic thugs to slaughter?" 

"So interested in dirty work?" I wonder, raising an eyebrow. "That sort of thing isn't beneath you?" I quirk my mouth into a faint grin. 

Tom leans over to murmur into my ear, "I just want to see you kill." 

"Then yes," I say. "Let's." 

He makes me _want_ to kill. He makes me want to forget ever trying to do good or help people. I feel foolish for even trying, like I'm denying myself or my own desires. 

We head out and down to Lowtown. There's never any shortage of thugs prowling the streets at night, and no one will miss them if we kill them. They aren't even worth using magic on and risking detection by someone who might report us to the templars. And besides, tearing them apart with a blade and watching their blood flow is _thrilling_. 

"Yes..." Tom murmurs. "Beautiful." 

As we're heading through Lowtown, I spot a woman dressed like a Chantry priest speaking with a group of thugs, and looks like she's asking for something. The group of them heads toward a nearby alley out of sight. 

"Going to rescue the damsel in distress?" Tom says mockingly. 

I snort softly. "I'm not too fond of the Chantry. Heh. Maybe I should kill them, make her think she's being saved, and then murder her?" I grin broadly. "They'll never know the difference, and the look on her face when she realizes she's been betrayed..." 

"Mmm," Tom says. "Nah, see what she wants first. Perhaps she's looking for something bloody to be done that the Chantry can disavow knowledge of. Then kill her afterward for being a _hypocritical_ Chantry priest." 

We head in with weapons bared and cut a swath through the ill-intentioned thugs before they can harm the priest. 

"Thank you for your assistance, although it was unnecessary," the woman says. 

A templar steps in behind us, and I tense. I'm doubly glad we have been killing without visible magic tonight, just relying on enhancement magic that protects us or makes us stronger and faster. 

"I am Sister Petrice. Perhaps you are interested in a job? I was looking for someone competent and willing to get their hands bloody, and the sort of people who would jump to someone's aid in an alleyway may be just what I'm looking for." 

I give a small smirk that's thankfully probably hidden in the darkness. "What sort of job?" 

Petrice glances around. "It's not safe to talk here. Let us speak further at my safehouse nearby." 

She leads us down the street to a building that seems like pretty much every other building in Lowtown -- rundown, looking like it's about to fall apart any minute and was constructed from scrap, and smelling of sewage. How she can stand it, I'm not sure, but I suppose she couldn't really expect better of the locale. 

"Alright," I say, stepping inside and putting up a privacy charm silently just in case. "What's this about? And what are we being paid?" 

"You'll be paid when the job is done, I assure you," Petrice says. 

The templar escorts in an imposing figure, and my eyes widen as I recognize the Qunari as a Saarebas, all done up in chains as usual. 

"Shocking, isn't it?" Petrice says upon seeing my expression. "Would even the Chantry treat mages in this manner? I call him Ketojan, a bridge between worlds." 

"Is that even a Qunari word?" Tom wonders. 

It isn't, but I don't care to argue about it. Whatever. It will suffice. I have to wonder where Petrice got her information. Regardless, I say nothing in response to that and stop gaping. I'm certainly not going to tell this priest about my association with the Qunari. 

"We found him separated from his unit," Petrice says. "Obviously, we can't parade him through the streets without attracting unwanted attention. This building connects to the tunnels beneath Kirkwall. I need you to sneak him through the tunnels to the hills outside the city, where he can be free." 

I give a short nod. "Very well. It shall be done." 

The three of us head through the trapdoor in the back of the hovel and down the ladder into the tunnels. There's so many sewers and tunnels underneath Kirkwall that I don't even know how far they extend. If I'm going to be staying here for the time being, shouldn't I take some time out to explore them thoroughly and see what might be found? 

"Well," Tom says, looking over Ketojan appraisingly. "Perhaps this is a good opportunity to acquire a replacement Saarebas, since you seem so attached to them?" He grins at me crookedly. 

I smirk. "Better stun me, just in case something goes horribly wrong here somehow." 

"Feeling paranoid?" Tom says, and then stuns me and revives me again. 

"My paranoia is rarely unfounded," I say, climbing to my feet again and casting a quick Cleansing Charm. Ugh, this place is filthy. 

"And I am suspicious about Sister Petrice's motivations," Tom says. "What, exactly, does she intend our friend here to do once he's out of the city? Does she not realize how brainwashed the Saarebas are?" 

"Evidently not," I say with a shrug. "I'm sure we can come up with a better plan than that." 

Ketojan follows as we make our way through the tunnels, and even assists us in killing several groups of thugs along the way. There's never any shortage of idiots willing to attack anyone on sight in Kirkwall, for some reason. You'd think they'd get themselves killed off eventually by attacking the wrong people. Well, I'm perfectly happy to speed their way to extinction. Down here, we don't even bother restraining ourselves from using magic openly. 

We emerge from the tunnels out onto the hills of the Wounded Coast, straight into a patrol of Qunari soldiers. I freeze in my step upon seeing them and tense up, even though it seems pretty unlikely that Ketojan will tell them that we're both mages. 

"An entire karataam killed," the Arvaarad says, giving me a hard look. "And a line of bodies leading straight to this point." 

"I am Ashkaari. I believe the Chantry is responsible," I reply. "I found this lost Saarebas with a Chantry sister and a templar." 

"They were clearly trying to set us up," Tom says. "We should go back and kill them now." 

The Arvaarad turns to speak with Ketojan briefly. I can't understand the Saarebas's half of the conversation, but it leads to Arvaarad saying, "Are you certain? Very well." Ketojan kneels, and Arvaarad raises his weapon. 

"Wait, what are you doing?" I snap. 

"This Saarebas has been without his Arvaarad for some time. The risk of corruption or possession is too high." 

"He is not possessed," Tom says, rolling his eyes. "Just because _you_ don't know how to properly check for such a thing doesn't mean that the risk is actually as high as you think it is." 

"Can you be certain of that?" Arvaarad demands, giving Tom a hard look. 

"I'll trust in his certainty," I reply. 

Arvaarad stares at me for a long moment, and then strikes Ketojan down without another word before turning his blade upon me. 

" _What?_ " I shriek, lightning crackling around me. 

"You have also been exposed to this corruption, Ashkaari," Arvaarad says. "Submit to the Qun. You know what I must do." 

I let out a heavy sigh and try to calm myself. I want to go back anyway to save Ketojan. The electric aura around me subsides. I step forward and kneel before the Arvaarad. "I am a mage," I say quietly. "I have been hiding this for many years. But I will submit." 

I'm thankful that Tom doesn't appear to be interfering. I'd just have to kill _myself_ then. Instead, I just let the Arvaarad kill me. 

* * *

"That was foolish, Lexen," Tom says quietly as I get up again. "This entire business has been foolish. We should just go right back up that ladder and kill Petrice and her pet templar right now." 

"The Qunari will need to be dealt with," I say. 

"We could just avoid them and bring this one through the tunnels under my mansion," Tom says. "We did leave the old slaver tunnels intact for a reason, after all." 

I shake my head, and stride off down the tunnels. I don't know what I hope to accomplish by confronting the karataam. Perhaps, in a way, it is symbolic of confronting my own identity as a follower of the Qun or not. 

"Ketojan," I explain to him in Qunlat so that he'll have a better chance of understanding. "You are not possessed or corrupted, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. They would have you believe that just being unsupervised for a moment could get you possessed. It's not actually that easy. Under normal circumstances, someone has to be _willing_ to allow a demon to possess them. And failing that, there needs to be another mage forcing the demon inside of them. It doesn't just happen out at random." 

Ketojan gives an incoherent rumble. I have no idea whether he actually understood that or not. 

"It's useless," Tom says. "You aren't going to get through to him." 

"I have to try," I say. 

Tom shrugs. "Suit yourself." 

We eventually re-emerge from the tunnels onto the rocky coast, after slaughtering our way through the various thugs again. The Arvaarad confronts us as before. 

"He's not possessed," I say firmly. "And I will not allow you to kill him just because you refuse to believe that. Stand down. I don't want to have to fight you." 

"Lexen," Tom says, stepping up close behind me. "You are not Ashkaari. You are not a Qunari any longer. You need not submit to their laws or their chains." 

"Tom..." I murmur. 

" _Kill them_ ," Tom hisses. 

"Ashkaari?" the Arvaarad says in puzzlement before realizing exactly who I am. "You are the one who said he would find the relic we've been searching for?" 

"Their relic is unimportant," Tom says quietly but fiercely. "Do not submit to them. Submit to _me_. Let them all burn." 

I stare at the Qunari before me, still as statues as though time is frozen, although it has only slowed down by my own perception. My life or theirs? My _existence_ or theirs? Is that even a question? Time resumes its normal flow as I have made my decision. 

"I reject the Qun," I say. "The only certainty that matters to me is that of this man beside me. And by _his_ will, you shall die." 

I raise my hands and unleash a furious storm down upon them, fueled by all the pent-up hate and rage in my heart. I hate feeling like I'm being forced into this, but I will do it anyway. I hate having had to hide my true nature for over a decade in Qunari lands. I hate the way they would bind their mages like slaves. What gives them the right to do this? What gives anyone the right? 

When the storm subsides and they are all dead, I go to loot the bodies with a cold feeling in my heart. Among their possessions, I find what appears to be a Saarebas control rod. I have no idea how to actually work one of these things. 

"Let me see that," Tom says, and I pass it over to him. After a bit of analysis, he waves it at Ketojan, who is surrounded by a nimbus of energy for a moment. 

"You... have unbound me?" Ketojan says. 

"I don't expect anything useful to come of this, but yes, I have," Tom says. "I think I'll be keeping this little toy, too." He shoves it into his bag. 

"You killed them... for me?" Ketojan asks me in confusion. "Why?" 

"They would have killed you," I say. 

"And you reject the Qun," Ketojan says. 

"I reject the path they follow," I say. "I reject the idea that you or I or Tom or anyone else born with magic, is nothing more than a broken tool. We are _not_ broken or faulty." 

"Magic is dangerous," Ketojan says. 

"You know, we're not actually from Thedas," I say. "We've seen many other places, where mages are free. I've never seen mages bound or enslaved like they are here. Usually, the mages are actually in charge. And demonic possession was virtually unheard of, as well." 

"Is there not corruption?" Ketojan wonders. "How can mages live without oversight?" 

"As well as anyone else," I reply. "We are still _people_. We think and feel and live just as anyone who didn't happen to be born with magic." 

"The Qun would demand that I die," Ketojan says. 

"The Qun doesn't understand that you aren't possessed," I say. "It does not acknowledge a mage as being capable of mastering himself. Of being able to be in control of himself. _Live_ , kadan. Master yourself. You are not as weak as they think you are." 

Ketojan looks thoughtful for a few moments. "I hear no madness or corruption in your words. So be it. I will live. I will follow you. Kadan. Teach me your path." 

I smile faintly at that, and relax. "I'm glad to hear that. I will not call you Saarebas, however. You are not just a dangerous thing." 

"The name the priest gave me suits me. Ketojan." 

I nod. "Very well. Let's head back to Kirkwall. We'll show you to our home." 

"And then we're going to go kill Sister Petrice," Tom says with a small grin as we head down the coast. "Provided she hasn't taken the opportunity to run off." 

Sure, walking through the streets of Kirkwall with a chained-up kossith isn't exactly subtle, but I'm less concerned than Petrice would need to be about it. It's still night, and dark enough that even a casual Disillusionment Charm will suffice. 

"Lexen?" Kirlin says as we step inside. "Where did you-- Oh... Another guest?" 

"I am Ketojan," he says hesitantly. 

"Kirlin, could you see about getting these chains off of him?" I say. "We need to go deal with a scheming priest." 

"Alright, I'll see what I can do," Kirlin says. 

Tom and I head back down to Lowtown. However, by the time we get back to the safehouse, Sister Petrice and her templar assistant are long gone, without having left any trace that they'd ever even been there. 


	8. Demands of the Qun

"Finally!" Isabela says, coming into the kitchen of the Hawke estate one evening. "I think I've got a solid lead on where that damned book went off to!" 

"Excellent," I say. "I was starting to wonder if I was going to have to sacrifice a goat in order to find the thing." 

"Surely not," Tom says. "It would have required at least a horse." 

"One of my old crewmates made off with it, and he's been trying to sell it now," Isabela says. "If we hurry, we can catch him. And then we can get rid of those Qunari once and for all!" 

I drain my cup of tea and set it aside, and climb to my feet. Tom and Rispy quickly follow suit, and, to my surprise, Maraas and Ketojan join us by the time we get to the entryway. 

"You two are coming, too?" I ask. 

"I may not follow the Qun any longer, but you are right that this is the best chance of getting them to leave Kirkwall," Maraas replies. "And until they are gone, Ketojan and I are at risk whenever we step outside." 

I nod, and my party heads outside, following Isabela down to Lowtown. We're not exactly inconspicuous, and the two kossith attract more than a few uneasy looks and people shuffling out of the way. 

Ketojan looks a lot better than he did as Saarebas. His horns won't grow back anymore than my hand will, but at least without the chains and stitching, anyone looking at him might just think he's an ordinary Tal-Vashoth who cut off his own horns in protest against the Qun, rather than a wild kossith mage. 

Isabela leads us to a warehouse where the pirate she mentioned appears to be trying to peddle the book to a group of Tevinter mages. When he sees us enter, his eyes widen in terror and he lets out a string of curses only a sailor could manage. 

"Andraste's flaming cunt! The Qunari are here? And Isabela! You're working with _them_ now?" 

"No," Maraas says. "The Tal-Vashoth are here." 

"You told us no one knew about this," one of the Tevinters says. 

"Isabela!" the pirate says desperately. "Maybe we can cut a deal? Split the profits?" 

"I don't think so," Isabela snaps, raising her daggers. 

"I'm getting out of here!" The sailor bolts for the door, but doesn't make it more than a step before Tom flicks a finger at him, and he's held firmly in place, frozen motionless in mid-step. 

"Like we're going to let you just run away?" Tom says with a snort. 

"Get them!" the Tevinter magister yells. 

The other mages lift their staves to unleash spells upon us. I raise my hand to put up a shield and ward them off. Isabela and Rispy have disappeared, probably to try and flank them. Ketojan sends a torrent of lightning toward the Tevinters. Maraas charges, and I protect and enhance his body with magic. 

"Die, you blighted slavers," I growl. All Tevinters are slavers, after all. I'm tempted to rain down an electrical attack of my own, but I stick to defense instead, and take pleasure in watching their blood flow beneath sharp blades. 

The Tevinters hardly know what hit them as they're torn apart between our combined assault. They were clearly completely unprepared to be going up against people like us. 

Once our enemies have been slain, Tom stalks over toward the still-paralyzed pirate and plucks the large book right out of his frozen hands. "I'll be taking that now." 

Maraas snorts in amusement. "That was far more effective than anything I've seen the Qunari do." 

"Lexen, kill him," Tom says, jerking his head toward the frozen pirate. "No witnesses." 

I nod, and go over to finish him off with a quick slit to the throat. 

"Isabela, we're going to take this to the Qunari now," Tom says. "You probably won't want to be there. Find the others and tell them to be ready with backup if need be." 

"You afraid this is going to go south somehow?" I ask. 

Tom doesn't answer and just looks at Isabela until she nods and heads off. "Maraas. Ketojan. I want you to take a position in Lowtown overlooking the Qunari compound. I'll put Disillusionment Charms on you to avoid too much attention. You should be able to see everything that happens from there." 

The two Tal-Vashoth nod in acknowledgement as we head out and Tom sets up those charms. I'm a little uneasy as we're making our way down to the docks district. I should be the one carrying the book, but Tom's got it firmly clasped to his chest like a vice. Better not to say anything, though. He seems quite intense today. 

We approach the gates to the Qunari compound. The guard at the gate instantly recognizes what Tom is carrying and lets us in without question. Tom strides into the center of the compound, flanked by Rispy and me. 

The Arishok rises and steps down from his makeshift throne as we approach. "So, Ashkaari, you have fulfilled the duty that you offered to take up after all." 

"Yes, I have," I say, letting out a heavy breath. Now they'll leave. They'll leave me alone and won't be a threat to me or my friends and family any longer. 

Tom holds up a hand and places the huge, ornate book on the stone pavement. "His _name_ is Lexen, and he holds no duty toward you!" 

I stare at Tom, whispering in Parseltongue, "No... please don't do this. Don't push it. Just let them leave and be done with this already." 

Tom ignores me. He lifts his hands, and the priceless relic bursts into flames. The Arishok's eyes widen in horror. Qunari around us shout in a rage, quickly bringing weapons to hand. Rispy's blades fly to his hands to prepare to defend himself. 

"Tom!" I shriek. "What the fuck, Tom? Why the fuck did you do that?" 

Tom spins around and looks at me with wild eyes. "You are _mine_ , Lexen. I will not stand for this Qunari nonsense any longer. They treat our kind even worse than the Chantry, and I had not believed that was possible! No more of this. You know what you must do. _Kill them_." 

My heart pounds in my chest and my blood burns as time stands still for the moment, the Qunari moving in extreme slow motion around the three of us as I stare incredulously at Tom. 

What is he trying to do to me? Is he trying to force me to make a choice, or to put me in a position where he thinks there is no other choice? Because that's not going to work. There are always choices. _There are always choices_ , damn it. I have not come this far to believe otherwise. Eternity stretches out before me and can spiral off into a million different paths at each passing moment. 

"Tom," I whisper. "Don't do this to me. You don't have to do this." 

"I want to see you kill," Tom says softly. 

"Stop trying to force me to choose," I growl. "It's not necessary, and I do _not_ appreciate it." 

I turn back toward the Arishok as time resumes its normal flow again. "Arishok!" I call out. "I take full responsibility for the actions of my _kadan_. If that means my life, then so be it." 

"Lexen..." Tom growls low. 

The Arishok raises his hand in silent command to the other Qunari, and they back off a bit, although still on alert. "We must all meet our demands of the Qun. This is my failure as much as yours. I will not demand your execution out of hand. However, we must fight, nonetheless." There are rumblings among the Qunari, and the Arishok silences them with a glare. "Single combat." 

"He's not even a warrior," Rispy puts in. "If you fight anyone in single combat, it should be me! I'll fight you!" 

"You are not Qunari nor _basilit-an_ , dwarf," the Arishok says, shaking his head. "No, this must be done. Ashkaari, regardless of the outcome of this battle, the _antaam_ will leave Kirkwall peacefully without further bloodshed." 

I nod tersely. "I accept." 

"Have I mentioned lately that you're insane?" Rispy says with a snort, backing up. "This guy could mop the floor with you. But far be it from me to interfere if you're intent upon committing suicide." 

"You had better kill him, Lexen," Tom says, a grin slowly starting to spread across his face. "Make this good." 

"So be it," the Arishok says, bringing out a pair of large blades. 

I pull out a sword from my bag of holding. It's not as large as I've prefered to use in the past, but I don't have the muscle mass required for a greatsword, never mind that large weapons are difficult to handle with only one hand. So, a short sword will have to suffice. 

The Arishok charges at me, and I dart out of the way, augmenting my speed and defense with magic quietly. I must not let him even touch me. He's way too strong for me to match him in brute force. 

"You are fast," the Arishok murmurs, narrowly missing me with his larger sword. However, in dodging that one, I failed to notice the smaller weapon striking me in the side. My shield flickers and flashes, but it holds firm and protects me from harm. "What is this? You defend yourself with magic?" 

There's no way I would ever be able to beat him without magic. And as it is, I still don't dare trying to push my Time Magic enough to speed me up to the point where I could actually win with a blade alone. I had been originally intending to just let him kill me and have words with Tom in the next loop. But now... Now I want to win. 

Another attack from the Arishok knocks my sword out of my hand and cuts a thin line of blood on my wrist. I'm just lucky I was able to evade the attack as much as I did, or I might have lost that hand, too. 

I tumble out of the way and right myself again, reaching into my bag again to fish out a wand. I'd meant to grab my own pine wand, but it's the Elder Wand that finds my hand instead. A wand fit only for murder. 

Lightning crackles around me, and I throw up a powerful shield to deflect his next attack. 

"You are Saarebas?" the Arishok growls, recovering from his blade being pushes aside. "I knew that shield was strange." 

"Good, I was starting to wonder if you were just going to keep fighting like a Muggle," Tom says. 

I let off a volley of curses toward the Arishok, winging him with one of them. I find myself grinning, thrilling at the feeling of dark magic coursing through me. It's such a rush that I scarsely notice that my curses are striking the Qunari standing behind the Arishok. 

"You are dangerous," the Arishok says, giving me a cold look. "A menace. What demons do you harbor, that you spent so many years among us and hid this from us? No, you must be destroyed." He barks in Qunlat, " _Kill them!_ " 

"Now the fight _really_ begins," Tom says, laughing aloud and whipping out his own wand. "Good job, Lexen. You distracted him long enough for our backup to arrive." 

Isabela appears at my right, hamstringing a random karasten. "I have no idea why we're killing the Qunari now, but I'm hardly going to protest!" 

Fenris charges in with his huge sword, a blue nimbus surrounding him as he slices through our foes. Bolts rain down, and I glance over to see Varric with that crossbow that he's overly fond of. Spells fall from above, and there's a shimmer in the air as Maraas drops down into the compound and joins the fray. Not only is Ketojan casting spells from the Lowtown position, but it looks like the other mages have joined him as well. They're all Disillusioned, however, and I can't tell how many there are, but that could be up to half a dozen other mages giving their assistance here. Even Duncan has shown up, slicing at Qunari with his dual blades. 

"Treacherous mage," the Arishok growls. "Was this your plan all along? You spit upon the Qun!" 

"You can think that if you like," I say. "It won't matter. I'm going to kill you." 

Kill. _Must kill_. A massive electrical storm erupts over the Qunari compound, and only tight control and concentration keeps it from striking my friends as well. 

Carver gets knocked aside by a huge sten, landing with a sickening crunch against a stone wall. I hadn't noticed he was there as well, but it shouldn't surprise me, given that everyone else is. 

"Carver!" Tom cries out, rushing over to his brother's side. I turn to move that way, but Tom holds up a hand to me. "No, I'll take care of this. You kill these bastards for daring to touch my brother." 

"Will do," I say fiercely. 

I dodge another blow from the Arishok, and look at him wickedly. I think of Ketojan -- of all the mages enslaved to the Qun, brainwashed so that they never know differently and slain out of hand if they ever wind up alone in circumstances beyond their control. Rage and hatred fills me as I think on how many lives the Qun has destroyed. How they would wipe out _choice_ if they could. Choosing to obey or die is not a choice most people should be given. 

_Tom, never force me to make that choice._

I raise my wand to the Arishok, and build my fury into a razor-sharp blade. " _AVADA KEDAVRA!_ " 

The Arishok probably has no idea what's coming at him, but he tries to dodge out of the way nonetheless. Although he's surprisingly quick for something so big, he can't quite move fast enough. The flash of green light strikes him, not perfectly but more than good enough. His movement continues in the direction he'd been dodging, and he strikes the ground, eyes staring blankly in death. 

The Qunari nearby appear stunned at what has happened. Perhaps they would actually leave now, perhaps not, but it doesn't matter. They're not being shown any mercy regardless. 

After hurling curses at a few more Qunari, I make my way over to Carver's side. He doesn't look too bad from here, but it's hard to tell what might have been broken. 

"How is he?" I ask. 

"He should be fine," Tom says in relief. "Three cracked ribs and a dislocated shoulder. I've patched him up again, though. Let's finish off these gray ogres." 

There's a few more injuries on our side, but since the majority of damage is being done from above by mages that they can't even see, we're doing pretty well. The Qunari are particularly disoriented and disheartened after the death of the Arishok, as well. They seem to realize that they're going to die and there's little they can do about it. 

When all is said and done, the compound is burning, and corpses litter the ground, Qunari all of them. 

"Maraas," Tom says toward the still-Disillusioned Tal-Vashoth. "Slip back up to Lowtown and get the mages to safety. I have a feeling someone probably noticed this little brawl." 

"Aye," Maraas says, and the shimmer moves away. 

Meanwhile, Rispy is looting the corpses and shoving their weapons into his bag of holding. 

"You know, Rispy," I say. "The Qunari might want those weapons back. I mean, the ones who are still alive because they aren't here, that is. They consider their weapons to be their souls, and collect the blades of the dead to take home." 

"Then they can pay for them if they want them back," Tom says with a snort. 

Armored boots tromp into the compound, and I look up over at who is here. I'd expected the city guard, not the templars, complete with Knight-Commander Meridith at their front. 

"What in the name of the Maker happened here?" Meridith demands. 

"From the looks of things, we just took care of your Qunari problem," Isabela says. "You should be thanking us." 

"Ugh, what a mess," Meridith says. "I got reports of a large amount of magic being used here, visible all the way from the Gallows. I don't recognize any of you, and none of you are wearing robes. Which of you are the apostates?" 

"I'm obviously not a mage," Rispy puts in lightly. 

"I'm the only mage here, Knight-Commander," I reply, stepping forward. "And I'm a Grey Warden, not an apostate." 

"You?" Meridith says, looking at me dubiously. "You caused all this destruction here by yourself?" 

"Well, I did kind of have help," I say, gesturing toward my friends, wand still in hand. 

"You are a dangerous apostate and you must come with me to the Gallows at once," Meridith says. 

"He _is_ a Grey Warden, Knight-Commander," Duncan puts in. 

"He is," Rispy agrees. "I might be the one they hailed as the 'Hero of Ferelden' for getting in the killing blow on the archdemon, but he's the one who brought the beast down, and lost his hand in the process." 

Meridith shakes her head. "I don't believe this nonsense. What business do Grey Wardens have in fighting the Qunari? There are no darkspawn here!" 

"We're retired, technically," I say. "We _live_ here. This is our home. They were threatening our home, so we took care of them." 

"You," Meridith says, looking at me pointedly. "I remember you. You came to me to warn me about an abomination loose in the city. We still have not found any trace of the being you described. Were you just trying to throw my templars off your scent, mage?" 

"Knight-Commander, I have records that can prove he is a Grey Warden and underwent the Joining," Duncan says. "I will need to contact my comrades, but I can provide them." 

"I do not believe any proof will come to light," Meridith says. "And I will not be stalled from my duty. He will come with me and be held in the Gallows until such time as you can actually prove this." 

"I will come peacefully, Knight-Commander," I say, putting my wand away and giving a bow toward her. 

"Lexen..." Tom says. 

I shake my head. "Don't worry about it, Tom. I'll be fine." I sigh heavily. "And that's one battle I would never wish to do again." 

"There is greater danger to you in that place than the entirety of the Qunari army," Tom says quietly. 

"Tom, we can't take on every templar in the city," I reply, putting my hand against my forehead. "There has been enough bloodshed today. I don't need to fight templars, too." 

"A wise decision," Meridith says. 

"Well, we're not going to leave you to rot in there," Rispy says. 

"I will procure the necessary documents at once," Duncan says. 

It doesn't occur to me until I'm walking away with Meridith that Duncan is bluffing. I _didn't_ undertake the Joining in this timeline. It's easy to forget what has happened in which timeline. So what does he intend to do? Forge them? I don't think I really care. I'll get out of there, one way or another. I'm just far too exhausted to even think about fighting templars right now. 

And if they do try to make me Tranquil, well... I'll turn to blood magic and tear the Gallows apart as a dragon, flightless or not. I will not hesitate to defend my existence. 


	9. The Gallows

_Dark blood slowly stains the ground. Echoes of screams fill my ears. There will be only death here this night..._

I wake with a start. A dream, it was only a dream, and fading now, thankfully. I shake my head and try to figure out where I am. It's an unfamiliar room, not my bedroom at the Hawke estate. 

It takes me a moment to remember how I wound up in the Gallows. The last place in Kirkwall I ever wanted to be. But here I am, just to make sure they didn't go after Tom, and didn't start a witch hunt for any of the other mages who happen to be my friends. 

I let out a heavy sigh. Either way, I'm hungry, and while I could just dig something out of my bag of holding -- which they thankfully did not confiscate from me -- I need to test out the limits of my imprisonment here. The Gallows is different from the Circle in Ferelden. Kinloch Hold was a fortress, and the apprentice quarters were housed in a converted barracks. The Gallows, however, was a prison, and the mages live in cells. 

The door isn't locked, which is a relief. I head out and down the hallway, getting a few odd looks from robed mages at my manner of dress and appearance in general. They've never seen me before. They have no idea who I am. 

"Ah, you're awake," says an elven man wearing First Enchanter robes as I poke my head into a side room. "Come on. I would speak with you." 

"First Enchanter," I say, inclining my head toward him and stepping inside. "I don't believe I've made your acquaintance." 

"Orsino is my name. And who might you be, to have caused such a stir?" 

"I am Lexen Chelseer," I reply. "Let me be frank with you. Am I a prisoner here, First Enchanter?" 

"No more than any other mage of the Circle," Orsino says with a sigh. "Meredith will want you put through the Harrowing as soon as possible. She's quite upset that you evaded her notice for so long." 

"I have already passed my Harrowing, First Enchanter," I reply. "I was a Circle Mage before I was a Grey Warden, you know." 

"Oh, really?" Orsino says. "Where are you from originally, then? Because you certainly weren't from my Circle." 

"Tevinter," I lie sourly. If he contacted the Ferelden Circle, he'd quickly realize that I was definitely never there in this timeline. And Greagoir might just remember the apostates he graciously overlooked due to our assistance with the Blight. 

Orsino's eyes widen at that. "You were a Tevinter magister?" 

"No," I reply. "Just someone who happened to have magic, and not liking a lot of the things they did. So I left, and joined up with the Grey Wardens instead. That was at least a cause I could get behind in good conscience." 

"Well, still, if you're a Tevinter, that might explain why you apparently hated the Qunari so much," Orsino says. 

"Oh, the Qunari," I sigh. I clench my fist. It's not like I actually wanted to kill the Qunari like that, but I'll never be able to tell him that. "Tell me. What's become of my friends? Are they in any trouble because of this?" 

Orsino chuckles. "From what I hear, the Viscount isn't sure whether to praise them or throw them out of the city. The Grand Cleric has given her usual 'Death is never justice' approach, although other higher-ranking members of the Chantry have expressed their approval. Out of her earshot, of course. I doubt they will receive any punishment for your bloody deeds. To be honest, you did what everyone else in the city has wanted to do for some time, but never had the nerve combined with the sheer brute strength to pull it off successfully." 

I give a short nod. "I'm still a Grey Warden. I shouldn't even be in here at all. But Meredith wouldn't believe me. Nor should I need to do the Harrowing again. I'll do it if you insist, but it'll just be a waste of lyrium." I shrug. "Just tell me the Knight-Commander isn't going to try to have me made Tranquil..." 

"Oh, no, I'm sure she wouldn't do that," Orsino says. "That would be a terrible waste of talent and potential." 

"Promise me if you suspect she'll try it, that you'll warn me first," I say. "Please. I would sooner die. If that's to be my fate, then give me a chance to commit suicide instead." I look to him desperately, wondering just how much I can trust this First Enchanter. 

Orsino looks back at me seriously. "You have no need to fear that, Lexen." 

" _Please_ ," I repeat. 

Orsino sighs. "Very well. If it will give you some consolation, then I will promise you that if I learn such a thing, I will inform you as soon as possible. But I am certain that such will not come to pass." 

"Thank you," I say, slumping my shoulders and letting out a sigh of relief. It's something, at least. 

"And I'm sure that the Grey Wardens will be able to confirm your identity," Orsino says. "Tell me about your Harrowing." 

I hope that the Tevinter Harrowing is the same as done elsewhere, or that Orsino doesn't know the details on it. "They used lyrium to send me into the Fade, to put me up against a demon that they had called in order to see if my will was strong enough to resist it. It was a pride demon, and when it failed to trick me, it tried to tempt me instead..." 

Orsino definitely doesn't need to know that I technically failed that Harrowing really, really badly, wound up making a deal with the demon, and regretted it much later. So I learned the lesson they were trying to teach, in the worst way possible. Well, perhaps not the worst way _possible_. Mouse might have destroyed the entire world or something while he had control of my Time Magic. But it was still very bad. 

"You need say no more," Orsino says. "I can tell from the haunted expression on your face that you are telling the truth." 

I sigh and give a nod. "Don't mind me. I'm just an old soldier that's seen too much of war. I really hope that what happened with the Qunari doesn't start another one." 

"Do not fear, Lexen. You are safe here for the moment." 

"I hope you're right," I say. "Right now, I think I'll just get some breakfast and try to relax. Could you point me the way to the dining area?" 

"Of course," Orsino says. 

I can't really relax here, however. I go through a routine meal, but I get a lot of stares. I'm a stranger here. I don't know anyone here, and what's more, I don't know that I can trust anyone here. Likewise, I'm a curiosity to them. They don't know what to make of me. They speak of me in hushed whispers, until one of them gathers up the courage to approach me. 

"Did you really kill all those Qunari?" asks the young man. 

"By myself, no," I say. "I did have help from my friends." 

"Weren't you scared, fighting all those big ox-men?" asks a elven woman. "I saw one once... he looked like he could break me in half with his bare hands!" 

"Not really," I say with a shrug. "Darkspawn are much scarier." 

"You were in Ferelden during the Blight?" asks the man. 

"I _was_ a Grey Warden," I say. "I helped bring down the archdemon." 

"Really? You fought that dragon?" 

"That was how I lost my hand," I say, holding up the stump. "Archdemon very nearly bit it off, and they had to remove it." 

"Wow..." 

"You must be really brave." 

"I could never do something like that." 

I chuckle and shake my head, and look at the young elf who had spoken. "Of course you could. Don't tell yourself that." 

"But I'm not strong or brave or smart or anything..." 

"You don't need to be strong or brave or smart," I say. "What you need is the will to act. The will to survive, to do anything that is necessary to succeed. To go up against impossible odds, no matter how scared you are of failure, to put everything on the line for the sake of what you need to do. And sometimes it means knowing that you're probably going to die, and giving it everything you've got anyway, because the alternative is too horrible to contemplate." 

"You fought because you had no choice?" the man asks. 

I shake my head. "No. There are always choices. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. _There are always choices_." I take a deep breath. "That's what keeps me going, you see. Knowing that there are choices. They may not be good choices, but seeing them and knowing they are there makes me stronger with whatever I choose to do." 

"What do you mean?" the woman asks. 

"You can choose to run away," I say. "You can choose to _die_. You can choose to use blood magic. You can choose to let yourself get possessed. Some of these may not be _good_ choices, but they are choices nonetheless. And realize that when you do not do so, it is because you _choose_ not to do so." 

"I never thought of it that way." 

"And so... I chose to fight," I go on. "I chose to fight for my friends, my family, for innocents and strangers, for myself, for the future." 

"Is that why you killed those Qunari?" 

I let out a heavy breath, blinking back sudden tears from my eyes. So many dead, and for what? "I fought for the sake of someone I cared deeply about. For... for..." 

I fought so that I didn't have to choose against Tom. I fought because he tried to leave me with no choice but to fight. I fought because the thought of opposing Tom was too horrible to contemplate. Would he really try to destroy me? Would he really seek to take my power and... Fuck, I just don't know anymore. 

"I think... I need to be alone right now," I murmur. I leave the crumbs on my plate and stumble blindly back toward the room I'd woken up in. 

_Tom, what are you doing to me..._

I slump down next to the bed and hug my knees to my chest, and bury my face against them. My hand is shaking, and the magnitude of what I did yesterday is finally catching up to me. I murdered all those Qunari, and I enjoyed doing it, too. It was all completely needless. It didn't have to end that way. Why did it end that way? Tom, oh Tom... 

I honestly don't know what to do at this point. Aside from... absolutely anything Tom wants me to do. Would he have me be a slave to his every whim? 

Somehow, being made Tranquil would almost be a mercy. But I would sooner do... something, anything. Kill, crush, _destroy_. Burn everything around me. Crackling in rage. 

"Lexen?" says Orsino from the doorway. "Are you alright?" 

I take a deep breath to calm myself and force away the anger. "No. I have problems above and beyond my being stuck in here. I think I may have been betrayed by someone I cannot afford to..." I trail off with a sigh and shake my head. 

"Is there anything I can do?" Orsino asks. 

"Probably not," I say. "I've seen and done so many things that I can't even tell you the half of them." 

Orsino steps inside the room and closes the door. "I do what I can to keep the templars off our backs and assist my fellow mages. If there's something I can do, or something I can help to cover up, you will need to let me know." 

I snort in amusement and make sure that the room is properly warded against eavesdropping. "Well. For starters. Do you really think I was the only mage at the Qunari compound yesterday? There were at least seven or eight of us. I can only hope that the others managed to slip away." 

"You've been hiding that many apostates in your home?" Orsino asks. 

I nod. "We've been in Kirkwall for months, not causing too much trouble. Keeping to ourselves, mostly, although dealing with a few problems around town like cleaning up the streets of thieves." 

"I see no reason why anyone should have any issue with that," Orsino says. "Aside from that the templars believe we should all be imprisoned in the Gallows." 

"Well, there's the other thing that I think some would take issue with," I say with a smirk. "Many of us are, shall we say, acquainted with blood magic. Does that bother you now?" 

"I see," Orsino says, frowning thoughtfully, although he doesn't really seem too disturbed by the thought. 

"We're not exactly sacrificing babies or anything," I say, snickering softly. "We're probably about the sanest bunch of maleficars you'll ever run across. Not that that's really saying much, but we tend to restrict any murderous tendancies to those that most people would want dead anyway. Maker, I'm not really helping my case, am I..." I lean back and laugh bitterly. 

"At least you're being honest?" Orsino says with a smirk. "That's perhaps more believable than the alternative. But tell me. Was it one of these other mages who betrayed you, that you could not afford?" 

I put my face in my hands. "It's a long story." I snort softly. "They're always long stories. But, to summarize. We used a blood magic ritual to gain a form of immortality. But, our souls are now connected to one another. And if one of us disagrees with what the others does... well, there's a problem." 

"And there is a disagreement, I take it?" Orsino presses. 

"Some of us are crazier than others... I want to help people... but my friend keeps pushing me to kill... I don't know, honestly, maybe I'm just the crazy one." 

"I see..." Orsino says. 

"Orsino," I say. "Was any of my blood taken to make a phylactery while I was unconscious?" 

"Not yet. Meredith wanted it done immediately. I procrastinated." He gives a crooked grin. 

"Then you have my gratitude," I say. "I'd rather no one be messing with my blood without my permission." 

"Understandably. Would you be willing to tell me about this ritual?" 

I make a face. "If you're thinking of trying it, don't bother. It won't work without... well, let's just say you wouldn't be able to get it to work. Mostly because it's not the ritual itself that confers any sort of immortality, but... bah, I've said too much already. Let's just leave it at 'it won't work.'" 

"I wasn't looking to try it, no," Orsino assures me. 

I rub my head. "Look. I know about kinds of magic the Chantry would never approve of. Not just blood magic. Shapeshifting, Lifecrafting, dark arts unheard of in this part of the world." I chuckle mirthlessly. "Ironically, I'd be able to just turn into a crow and fly out of here if it weren't for this." I indicate the stump of my right hand. "The injury carries over into animal form as well. I can't fly." 

"It must be difficult to feel trapped here when you are so used to freedom," Orsino says. "Hmm, so this immortality ritual. Would that be why you asked me to give you a chance to commit suicide?" 

"Exactly," I say, nodding. "I might appear to die, but it would only give me a chance to make my escape." 

"And you are connected to someone who you feel may have betrayed you? Is there some way to break this connection?" 

"I don't know," I say. "Probably. I like to think that anything is possible, it just takes figuring out how." 

"Then you must make a choice," Orsino tells me. "Like you were telling those apprentices earlier." 

"You overheard that?" I say with a sigh. 

Orsino nods. "Do you want to find a way to try to break this connection? Do you want to be free of this one?" 

I lean back and think on this for a long moment before finally replying, "I don't think I could imagine living without him." 

"Then you must find a way to live _with_ him," Orsino says. 

I close my eyes, and nod slowly. "You're right. I just... yeah, you're right." 

I think I ought to go back and erase this day. I've told Orsino _way_ more than I intended to. It's surely a sign of how stressed I am at the moment and uncertain of who to trust. But I think this is alright. Maybe he can be an ally. 

* * *

Several days pass in the Gallows, and I grow increasingly worried about the situation. At least no one has tried to make me Tranquil, put me through the Harrowing, or make a phylactery with my blood. I suppose I can be thankful to Orsino for that. 

I'd sent a Patronus to Tom notifying him of my situation once I was calm and had some time alone, and received a reply, "We're doing everything we can to get you out of there shy of tearing down the Gallows -- and we haven't ruled that out as an option if all else fails, either." 

"Just be careful," I send to Tom. "I don't know how many templars are in here, and if we went about that wrong, many of the mages would fight for them, too, most likely." 

We keep in contact every night, and he updates me on the situation. 

"Duncan forged some very convincing documents," Tom tells me three nights after my arrival. "But Meredith wouldn't even look at them, the bitch." 

"Any other ideas?" I ask. 

"I'm going to Apparate in the Warden-Commander from Ferelden," Tom replies. "Lariole won't put up with any shit from Meredith." 

"That's dangerous," I warn him. "What if she doesn't make it through safely?" 

"Then I will let you know so you can do a reset," Tom retorts. "It should certainly be easier than Apparating a dwarf, however." 

Then after that, a few more days pass without success. And then... 

Tom's silvery snake Patronus slithers into my room and hisses, "We're coming for you. Be prepared." 

That night, at the hour of midnight, my cell door unlocks with a click and opens. Tom is standing silhouetted in the doorway, with Rispy right behind him. 

"Come on," Tom says. "Let's get you the hell out of here." 

I give a terse nod, and follow the two of them out of the cell. We quietly move down the corridor, evading detection, and come to a storeroom below the Gallows. Anders is keeping watch next to a trap door. 

"There you are," Anders says. "We should hurry. I haven't seen any templars yet, but they could swoop in at any moment." 

"Yes, swooping is bad," I reply dryly, and go to climb down through the trap door. 

The trap door opens up into a cavern below the Gallows, and down at the bottom of the ladder, Lariole and Theryn are on alert with sword and bow, respectively, both wearing Grey Warden outfits. 

"I still say you should let me at that Knight-Commander bitch," Lariole says. "I'll kill her!" 

"Negotiations went poorly, I take it?" I ask unnecessarily. "So where are we?" 

"These tunnels were built by lyrium smugglers, I think," Anders says. "I've been using them for the mage underground to help get mages to safety. They go all the way under the bay and connect to Darktown." 

I sigh and stare up at the ladder. "This won't really help, will it. I can escape, but we won't be safe in Kirkwall any longer. We'd need to flee the city, won't we. The templars would be hunting me." 

"That's why we should totally kill Meredith now!" Lariole says. 

"Somehow, I don't think that murdering the Knight-Commander would improve our situation," Anders says dryly. "Even if she deserves it." 

"There's more to it than that," Tom says a little distantly, staring upward as well. "Now that I'm here at the Gallows, I sense... something." 

"Well, that's awfully vague," Anders says. "I sense something, too. Lots of things, in fact. Primarily the fact that this tunnel smells like filthy dwarf." 

"Hey!" Rispy says. 

"Not you," Anders says. " _You_ bathe." 

"Quiet," Tom snaps, shaking his head. "I'm serious. There's a power here that seems familiar. Something I've encountered before. But I can't put my finger on what." 

"Demons?" I venture. 

Tom shakes his head. "No, it's a completely different flavor than that. It's... pulling at me. Lexen, I'm going to stun you just in case, and we're going to find out what this is." 

I nod, and Tom stuns me and then revives me quickly. 

"Alright," Tom says. "Lexen and Rispy, you're with me. The rest of you, stay here and make sure our escape route is clear." 

"Bah, I'm _still_ playing rear guard?" Lariole says. 

"It's very important, and we need to be sure we can slip away quickly if there's trouble," Tom says. 

"Fine. I'll skewer any templars that come close," Lariole says. 

"Be careful," Anders warns as we start to climb back up the ladder. "We'll come and try to find you if you don't show up in an hour." 

"No," Tom says firmly. "If we're not back by that point without sending word by Patronus, I want you to leave quietly, and get my family out of Kirkwall as soon as possible. Understood?" 

Anders is quiet for a moment, then nods, and the two Grey Wardens nod grimly in agreement as well. 

Once back in the storeroom, I put on my invisibility cloak, and Tom puts up a Disillusionment charm on himself. The spell doesn't work very well on dwarves, however, so I hope Rispy's stealth is up to the task. 

Now that Tom has mentioned it, I think I can sense something as well. A strong point of energy somewhere in the Gallows, like nothing I've ever felt before. 

A templar comes patrolling down an adjacent corridor, armor clanking against the floor loudly enough that it's a wonder anyone would hear us at all. We stay still and quiet until he passes. 

Once the coast is clear again, we head toward the _thing_. Shining like a beacon on the edge of my senses. Calling me, drawing me in, pulling me closer. 

We find ourselves in the Knight-Commander's office. Meredith is laying in the next room with the door ajar, murmuring fitfully in her sleep. 

"Silencing charms up," Tom whispers. "It's in... this cabinet. _Alohomora_. Bah. Lexen! You get it. You're the one with the ridiculously overpowered Unlocking Charms." 

I step over to the cabinet and pull out my wand, and with a thought of freedom, I force open the strong locks. The cabinet doors swing open to reveal a strange object, glowing blue... singing. Resonating with my soul... 

"The lyrium idol," Tom breathes. 

"It's the one from the Deep Roads," Rispy says quietly. "How did it get here?" 

"Meredith must have gotten her hands on it somehow," Tom says, taking it out reverently with both hands, the Disillusionment spell flickering and warping the air around him as he does so. "Such power..." 

"Tom, maybe we should--" I begin. 

The idol lets out a flash of energy, a shockwave almost knocking me off my feet. Light, noise, rumbling... 

"What's going on?" Meredith demands, charging into the doorway, sword already in hand. "You! You just came here to steal my idol!" 

"It's not _your_ idol!" Tom snaps. "It--" 

Whatever Tom might say next is lost in a roar of mana, swirling around him like a thunderstorm. Ripping apart everything around it. I hardly get a chance to scream as I'm being torn to pieces. 

* * *

I wake at the bottom of the ladder in the tunnels below the Gallows. I'm not the least bit tired nor drained of energy. In fact, my body is positively buzzing with mana at the moment, overcharged to the point of giddiness. 

"Come on," Tom says, eyes wild with eagerness. "We have to go get that idol!" 

"Tom, hold on just a second!" I hiss in Parseltongue. "That thing just killed us!" I rush over and grab onto his shoulder. 

"Must-- Idol--" Tom snarls. 

"Get a hold of yourself!" I snap, in English this time, wrapping my arm around him and pulling him away from the ladder. 

"Uh... What's going on here?" Theryn wonders, watching us in puzzlement. 

"Idol..." Tom murmurs. 

"Tom, breathe!" I say. "Control yourself! Don't let some chunk of rock get the better of you!" 

Tom tenses, struggling for a moment before finally calming, panting a little. "What the... Oh fuck." 

"Yeah," I say. "Yeah." 

"The idol... Fuck, it's still calling me..." Tom says softly. 

"Alright, what is this idol you're talking about?" Lariole asks. 

"We found it in the Deep Roads," Rispy says. "But it got stolen. It was in this strange, ancient dwarven thaig that was older than anything I've ever seen before, and made of pure lyrium." 

"Singing..." Tom whispers. "It sings to your very soul..." 

"I think we should find a way to destroy the thing," Rispy says. 

"No!" Tom barks, eyes widening in panic. 

"It's dangerous," I say. "And that's a clear sign in and of itself of that." 

"My idol!" Tom snarls, struggling against me again, but I hold him firmly. 

"Tom, listen to yourself!" I snap. "And the way you're flailing around like a Muggle! What kind of a great wizard are you to let an inanimate object affect you like this? You're stronger than this!" 

Tom clenches his eyes shut and, after a moment, goes limp in my grasp. "This... yeah... this is bad." He focuses with a clear effort. "Lexen. Go. Do what you need to do. You... may want to stun me until it's done." He sighs. 

I nod grimly, release him, and hit him with a Stunning Spell. It takes a fairly strong flash of red light to knock him out, even when he's not trying to fight it. 

"Alright," I say, letting out a ragged sigh. "Theryn, Hawthorne, keep an eye out here and make sure our escape route is clear, and that Tom will be alright and doesn't do anything. Anders, Rispy, you're with me. We've got a job to do." 

Lariole and Theryn nod, and my team heads back up the ladder. 

"Where is this idol, anyway?" Anders asks quietly once we're in the storeroom. 

"In Meredith's office," I reply. 

"Oh, good, I was afraid this was going to be easy or something," Anders says lightly. "Silly me. Alright, let's just go stroll into the Knight-Commander's private office and steal a powerful, dangerous magical artifact. No sweat." 

"I want you to watch our backs," I say. "Rispy, take point." 

We head back to the office where the idol is being kept, with me in my cloak and Anders hidden by spell. I direct Anders to stay back and keep watch rather than actually coming in with us. Hopefully, if it explodes again, he won't be killed. 

Rispy creeps forward to try to open the cabinet without magic, and then when that fails, he holds up a hand and sneaks into Meredith's bedroom to poke around. Meredith snorts and turns in her sleep, and I hold my breath as I watch from the doorway, afraid that she's going to wake up at any moment. With such close proximity to the idol, I don't dare use magic to make sure that she stays asleep. I don't know how it might behave, but it's trying to pull at me even now. 

Holding aloft a key triumphantly, Rispy returns to the main office. Sure enough, it opens the cabinet. Rather than picking it up in his bare hands, he gathers up a cloth and wraps it up. I don't know how much that will actually help, but it's a reasonable precaution, I suppose. 

He doesn't get far. There's a shuddering in the air, and all around the room, books, candles, and pieces of furniture start hovering in the air, some of them spinning wildly. 

Meredith wakes up, rushing toward the door and grabbing her sword in the process. "A thieving dwarf? You will die for touching my idol!" 

"I don't even want this damned thing!" Rispy cries, throwing it at her. 

Meredith drops her sword, letting it clatter to the floor, and frantically scrambles to catch the idol. Rispy rushes for the door and runs past me, and I pull out the Elder Wand. 

Rispy ran out of the office at full speed, but Meredith and the idol are moving in slow motion. The idol is still arcing through the air, glittering and pulsating, the cloth having fallen off of it and crumbled to the floor. This might be my best chance to do something. 

I let off a powerful blast of lightning toward the lyrium idol, the only magic I can think of to cast that can move fast enough and that I can do enough damage with to really affect it. 

_CRACK-A-DOOM!_

A massive blast slams me against the far wall. I'm stunned for a moment, but Rispy grabs my hand, still grasping the Elder Wand, and tugs at me. 

"Come on, let's go!" he yells, barely audible over the roaring energy. 

At least one of us is still with it. I gather myself and scramble after him. We're outrunning an explosion. Anders is scarcely moving as we come upon him. Rispy snares him around the waist and slings him unceremoniously over his shoulder, and hauls him along with us. 

When we reach the storeroom again, time has resumed its normal flow and the rumbling has gone quiet, to be replaced with panicked shouts in the distance. 

"What in the Maker's name happened?" Anders wonders. "And how did the dwarf manage to carry me out of there in the blink of an eye?" 

"Let's just get out of here right now," I say. "I'll explain on the way. Provided that explosion didn't collapse the tunnel or something." 

"Did you just blow up the entire Gallows?" Lariole asks as we climb down the ladder. 

"Not the _entire_ Gallows, it looked like," Anders replies. "The part above our heads seemed to still be intact. I have no idea about the rest of it." 

I point the wand in my hand at Tom and say, " _Rennervate_." 

Tom stirs with a groan and rubs his head. "The... it's gone. I don't sense it anymore. You did it, Lexen." He smiles weakly at me. 

"I'm pretty sure Meredith couldn't have survived that," I say. "And I have no idea how much damage it caused to the Gallows. Let's get out of here, posthaste." 

"Agreed," Tom says, climbing to his feet and putting a hand on my shoulder to steady himself. 

We head down the tunnel leading back to Kirkwall. I have no idea what sort of mess has happened with the Gallows, but right now I'm more concerned about whatever is between me and Tom. Everything isn't resolved yet, and we're going to need to come to some sort of compromise. But for the moment, I'm content enough that we're both well and free. 


	10. After the Storm

"Did you have any trouble on this end?" I ask Lariole and Theryn as we head down the tunnel. I'm still buzzing with energy from that lyrium idol. Despite having used a fair bit of magic _and_ had a time slow field up, I still feel like I'm overflowing with energy, to the point where it almost burns inside of me. 

"I had to smite Hawke a few times," Lariole replies. "His magic was going crazy even while he was unconscious." 

"That would explain why I'm so mana drained," Tom mutters, chuckling. He pulls out a lyrium potion and drains it down. "Much better." 

"I really hope you didn't blow up the Gallows," Anders says with a smirk. "I still have friends in there, you know." 

"Not my fault," I say. "Although I'm pretty sure that they're gonna need a new knight-commander." 

"What a shame, that," Anders says. 

"Pity I missed it," Tom says. 

"And what is it with people and building tunnels under large bodies of water, anyway?" I wonder, looking uneasily upward and imagining the crushing waves breaking down upon us. 

Thankfully, the tunnels eventually lead us out into Darktown, where we make our way to the secret entrance into the cellars below the Hawke estate. Once we're safely inside our home, I flop down into an armchair, still buzzing and twitching and mentally exhausted. 

"Lexen!" Kirlin says, rushing over to put her arms around me, and then jerking back as if shocked. "Lexen, what happened? You're so saturated with mana it's leaking off you!" 

"Sorry," I say, forcing a smile. 

"We ran into that idol from the Deep Roads," Tom says. 

"And blew it up in the knight-commander's face," Rispy adds. 

"Oh dear," Kirlin says. 

"She had it coming," Lariole insists. 

"I really hope they don't send the templars down upon us all anyway," I murmur. 

"Perhaps the viscount will be reasonable?" Theryn suggests. 

"Oh yeah, let's just go explain Meredith's crazy to the viscount," Anders says. "Great idea. The crazy knight-commander was just killed by a bunch of equally crazy apostates. You know, if you're going to do that, I'm just going to go hide back down in Darktown again." 

I sigh. "I know. But I can't put my family in danger. I don't want the templars coming after me and finding them." 

"If you're going, I'll stun you first," Tom says. "With some warning if things are going to go badly, we can make everyone disappear from here in no time." 

I nod, and stand. "Let's do it, then." 

After being stunned and revived, I head out of the Hawke estate along with Tom, Rispy, and the two elven Grey Wardens. I really don't blame Anders for wanting to get out of here if things might go badly. 

Before we even reach the keep, however, we run across the Grand Cleric herself in the courtyard near the Chanter's Board. She turns and looks to us as if she knows our every sin, but rather than judging us for them, gives us that disappointed frown that turns your bones to jelly. 

"Grand Cleric," I say, bowing respectfully toward her. 

"The explosion in the Gallows could be seen all the way from up here," Grand Cleric Elthina says. "Do _you_ know what might have caused this?" 

"We do," I reply with a sigh. 

"Knight-Commander Meredith was keeping a dangerous magical artifact that had been found in the Deep Roads," Tom explains. 

"It... exploded," I say, sheepishly not wanting to admit to my part in that to the Grand Cleric. 

"The knight-commander is probably dead," Rispy adds. 

"Serves her right," Lariole mutters. 

Grand Cleric Elthina looks to Lariole and asks, "Why do you believe that Meredith deserved to die?" 

"She locked up Lexen in the Gallows," Lariole says. "A Grey Warden! And one of us who stopped the Blight!" 

"And from what I've heard, Lexen wasn't the only one she wronged," Tom says quietly. "He's fortunate that she didn't decide to make him Tranquil for the slightest perceived crime." 

"Perhaps a roundabout route to justice, but justice all the same," I say. 

Elthina gazes at me, and tells me, "Death is never justice." 

I close my eyes for a moment and let out a deep sigh, then blink slowly at the ground. "I..." 

"Maybe not justice," Tom says. "But it may have prevented many more lives from being destroyed." 

"Provided they weren't killed in the blast, anyway," Rispy says. 

"Not much we can do about that now, anyway," Lariole says. "It's not like we go around _trying_ to blow things up, burn things down, or otherwise destroy them." 

"It just kind of happens regardless?" Theryn says. 

"I didn't _mean_ to collapse that mine!" 

"I'm still not sure how you even managed that," Theryn says. "Herren was quite cross with you." 

"Collapsing a section of the Deep Roads on top of those Broodmothers was entirely intentional, however," Lariole added. 

The Grand Cleric is staring at the two of them with an expression one assumes is hoping that Lariole leaves Kirkwall and goes back home as quickly as possible. 

"Lexen, are you alright?" Tom asks, putting a hand on my shoulder and looking at me with some concern. 

"Yeah," I say. "Yeah, I'll be fine." I'm shaking, my hand is trembling, and emotionally I think I'm going a little insane. But I'm fine. Fine enough to make sure that my family is safe. 

"You're still buzzing," Tom says quietly. "Maybe we should get you back to the manor." 

"I've got to..." I murmur. 

"There's nothing you _have_ to do," Tom says firmly. 

"We can take care of it," Lariole says. 

"Just make sure he's alright," Theryn adds. 

Tom leads me back to the Hawke estate, leaving the other three to deal with the Grand Cleric and the Viscount. I'm reluctant to head back, but I don't care to argue with Tom at the moment. 

"Is there something wrong?" Kirlin asks when we come back inside. 

"I'm fine," I mutter. 

"That means there's something wrong and you must be in terrible shape," Kirlin says dryly. 

I roll my eyes and smirk at her. 

"I don't know what sort of effects exposure to that lyrium idol might have caused," Tom says. "Considering what it did to _me_..." He shakes his head. 

I slump back into the chair. "It wasn't your fault, Tom." 

"I wish I could blame my behavior entirely on the idol," Tom says with a sigh. 

"I didn't expect you going crazy over it to be normal behavior, no," I reply. 

"Not just today, I mean," Tom says. "The way I've been pushing you..." 

"What did you do to him, Tom?" Kirlin asks, going over to examine me. 

"Let's not talk about this," I mutter. 

"No, we are absolutely going to talk about this," Kirlin says, looking sharply to Tom. "What happened between you two?" 

"I threatened him and made him kill people," Tom says softly. 

"I _chose_ to kill people," I reply. My hand would probably be shaking if I weren't clutching the arm of the chair in a death grip. 

"I forced you to choose between killing and fighting me," Tom says. 

"Do you think I'm ever going to refuse you anything you want?" I ask. My eyes burn from unshed tears. 

"Exactly," Tom says with a sigh. "All I ever had to do was ask. Instead, I try to change who you are, force you to be something else, when _this_ is the person I fell in love with. And the one who, despite claims otherwise, was always willing to risk everything for my sake." 

"I didn't--" I protest, but Tom raises a hand and cuts me off. 

"You had no idea what further exposure to that idol would do to you," Tom says. "Yet you went in anyway, in hopes that it would save me." 

"I couldn't just leave things like that," I mutter. "And it was dangerous..." 

"You could have just left well enough alone, stunned me, and dragged me off in hopes that distance would mitigate the effect," Tom says. "Or gone in and stolen it and brought it back to study to see if we might be able to control it." 

"What _was_ this idol, exactly, anyway?" Kirlin wonders. 

"I have no idea," I reply with a sigh. "But whatever it was, it didn't hold up to a direct overcharged lightning blast." 

"Normally, I would have advocated taking it back to study," Tom says. "But perhaps this is for the best. I am not so foolish that I would wish to study something in close proximity that may affect my mind or magic in adverse ways." 

Maraas comes out into the room, carrying Raven. She looks around the room with bright eyes, gurgling a little. The baby reaches out toward her mother eagerly. 

"I am not experienced in the role of child care," Maraas says. "But I believe she may be hungry?" 

Kirlin smiles warmly and takes my daughter from the kossith. "I'll take care of this." She turns to look at me and Tom sternly. " _You_ take care of Lexen, you hear?" She leaves the room. 

"Is Lexen wounded?" Maraas says, peering at me. 

"No," Tom says. "Although he has an almost dangerous level of mana saturation." 

"I see," Maraas says, clearly not having any idea what Tom is talking about. 

I snicker softly. "Are you learning human expressions now? Saying 'I see' to anything, even if you really don't?" 

"I've found that it works better than asking for an explanation that I also will not understand," Maraas replies. 

"I don't think I could readily let off any mana without blowing something else up, however," I say. 

"Then let's go out and blow something up," Tom suggests. 

"Will you make me?" I say, giving him a hard look. 

"No, I will not," Tom says. "I will, however, _ask_ you. You have no need to fear me." 

My lips quirk into a small grin. "Alright. Let's do it." 

I get up and head toward the cellar exit to see about destroying some thugs down below in Darktown, perhaps, and gesture at Maraas to come with us as well. I like having a non-mage around, just in case we run into trouble with templars or the like, and Rispy is still busy at the keep. 

As we're heading down the hallway, Merrill pokes her head out of a doorway. "Oh, you're back. I'm glad you got out of the Gallows alright. I would hate to wind up there myself. It doesn't seem like a very nice place to visit, never mind be stuck there." 

"Thank you for your concern, Merrill," I say. "I'm fine, though. How's the mirror coming along?" 

"I don't think I'm making much progress, even with the help you've been giving me, and thank you for that, by the way." 

"Is there anything else that might help?" I ask. 

"Oh, well, maybe, but I-- I hesitate to ask..." 

Tom snorts softly. "Don't hesitate. We want the Eluvian to be repaired and functional just as much as you do." 

"Well, alright then," Merrill says. "There's a special tool called an arulin'holm. Keeper Marethari will have one." 

"Alright, let's go ask her to borrow it, then," I say. There will probably be plenty of things to blast out by Sundermount, too. "Come on." 

Merrill opens her mouth as if to argue, but her words die on her lips as I turn on my heel and head down the hallway toward the main entrance to the manor. After a moment, she scrambles along after the three of us to keep up. 

Out in Hightown, we catch the dwarf and the two other elves coming out of the keep. They wave over toward us and approach. 

" _Aneth ara, lethallan,_ " Theryn says to Merrill, then turns to me and asks, "Feeling better, Lexen?" 

"Yeah, I'll be alright," I say. "How'd things go?" 

"You're clear," Lariole says. "Meredith might've been too dense to accept that you're a Grey Warden, but the viscount was willing to listen, at least." 

"You didn't threaten him _too_ much, did you?" I say with a smirk. 

"No threats, but maybe a little intimidation," Rispy says. "Also convinced him that we had nothing to do with the unfortunate explosion in the Gallows." 

"So, I suppose we'll be heading back to Vigil's Keep, if our business here is done," Lariole says. 

"Would you like to visit the Dalish before we teleport you back?" I ask. "We're heading there now so that Merrill can talk to Keeper Marethari." 

"They're still here?" Theryn says with a sigh. "I would have thought they'd have moved on by now. Yes, let's go." 

I'm much more relaxed as we head out of the city. The mana in me lets out a constant low-key hum, uncomfortable but not unbearable. But I'm just glad that my family is safe. 

Theryn leads the way to the Dalish camp out on the slopes of Sundermount. Merrill might have been the one showing us the way instead if Theryn hadn't been here, but as it is, she's trailing behind us as if embarrassed to even be here, rather than happy at coming back to her clan. 

"Merrill," I say gently. "You're going to have to talk to her yourself, you know. Unless you think you can connive Theryn into doing it for you. They're not _our_ people." 

Theryn shakes her head. "I'm not going to do it. I think this is a terrible idea, but at least someone's looking out for her. Maybe you can keep her from doing too much damage." 

As we walk through the camp, many of the elves are glancing toward us uneasily. I'm not sure whether that's because of the two humans, the dwarf, the kossith, being nervous about Lariole's destructive tendancies, or just because they don't like Merrill for whatever reason sent her to Kirkwall to live among humans. 

Theryn and Lariole go off to chat with the clan, leaving the rest of us to approach the Keeper. Merrill uneasily comes along with us, and I have to nudge her forward to talk to Marethari. 

" _Andaran atish'an, da'len,_ " Keeper Marethari says. "Have you decided to return to us and give up this foolish course?" 

"I have not," Merrill says, finding a backbone. "And I need the arulin'holm. You don't have to approve of what I'm doing, but you can't deny me it. It's my right." 

I'm a little surprised at this sort of tone from Merrill, of all people. She really is bad at dealing with people, isn't she. Would Marethari deny her if she had just asked politely? I have no idea. I don't know what really went on between them. 

Marethari still disapproves, but agrees to give Merrill the tool she's looking for in exchange for having us look for three hunters that have gone missing while investigating a nearby cave. Naturally, we agree. There's got to be something in there to kill. 

We locate the cave in question some ways away from the Dalish camp along the lower slopes of Sundermount, and head inside. I send blasts of lightning toward some giant spiders we find scurrying about. Overcharged, more energy in them than I'd intended. If it weren't for intense control and concentration, I'd wind up accidentally electrocuting my friends as well, at this rate. 

We find the bodies of the lost hunters one by one. Merrill lets out quiet sobs as we find each of them, distraught. 

"What could have killed them in here?" I wonder. "Surely not these spiders." 

"I don't think it was the spiders," Tom says. 

Further in, we encounter a male elf who is still alive. He looks to Merrill in terror when we approach. 

"You!" He glances at the rest of us. "Don't you realize what she's done? She's a monster!" 

"Pol!" Merrill says. "What has the Keeper been telling people about me?" 

"Only the truth!" Pol says. "Get away from me!" 

Pol turns to run toward the tunnel leading away from us, but deeper into the cave. With a flick of Tom's fingers, the elf is held firmly in place by a magical field before he can take more than a few steps. 

"Pol, if you're going to run away, it would be prudent to run in the _other_ direction," Tom says. He spins around the frozen elf to face the way out. "Run _out_ of the cave, rather than further into it, mkay?" 

Tom waits until we've strolled past Pol before unfreezing him, giving him a swat on the butt as he sends the poor terrified elf running for the cave entrance. 

"Tom," I say quietly as we continue down the tunnel. 

"Yes?" Tom replies with a crooked grin. 

"You just very likely saved someone's life," I murmur. "A complete stranger, even." 

Tom chuckles softly. "So I did." 

On impulse, I grab him and kiss him passionately. 

"Mmh," Tom says softly. "For that, totally worth it." He laughs lightly. "And you're still tingling." 

Rispy clears his throat. "Hate to interrupt, but there's probably something in this cave that's going to try to kill us?" 

"Yes, of course," Tom says, releasing me. "Let's go commit some destruction." 

"Bas are strange," Maraas mutters. 

"No, just us," I assure him. 

We move on. In a large chamber in the back of the cave system, there's a rumbling sound, and something very large moves into view. It's a bit like the smaller giant spiders we'd encountered so far, but much, much larger. And even less friendly, if that's even possible. 

"Stand back!" I tell my companions. 

"You don't need to tell me twice," Rispy says. 

I take all the built up mana inside me that has been simmering to get out, and direct it into a powerful eruption of lightning from my fingertips. The blast strikes the creature dead on, and with great concentration, I make sure that it strikes nothing _but_ the enemy. I maintain the stream of electricity for several long moments before releasing it. The creature twitches a few times before collapsing. 

"Well, that's one way to take care of a problem," Rispy says. 

"What _was_ that thing?" I wonder, poking at the corpse. 

"It's a varterral," Merrill says. 

"Well, I'm glad _someone_ knows what it was," I comment. "And I thought acromantulas could get big. Not that it's really relevant now." 

"I have more respect for your hunters now," Maraas says. "If they had been felled by ordinary giant spiders, it would not have spoken well for the prowess of the Dalish." 

We head back out of the cave. Thankfully, we come across no sign of Pol's body along the way, so I can assume that he either made it out safely, or he got lost and wandered down some side tunnel where he got snared in the web of some giant spider who survived our slaughter. 

No, I spot him back at the camp when we return, trying to hide behind one of the Dalish wagons. Merrill goes over to approach Keeper Marethari. 

"We-- We found the hunters," Merrill says. "Or, their bodies at least. They were most likely killed by a varterral." 

"I see," Marethari says. "That is unfortunate, although I suspected as much." 

"What have you been telling people about me?" Merrill demands. "We saw Pol in there, and he was terrified! Of _me_! If Hawke hadn't stopped him, he would have run straight into the varterral!" 

"It is my duty as their Keeper to warn them of danger," Marethari says. "You have been practicing blood magic and consorting with demons. They had to be aware of this." 

I snort softly. "And we've been making sure that she has the support she needs so that she doesn't _have_ to deal with demons." 

"Keeper. The arulin'holm, please?" Merrill says. 

Marethari turns to me and offers me the old elven tool instead. "I will entrust this to your keeping. If you are truly her friend, then I implore you to steer her from this course." 

I sigh and take it from her, and tell my friends, "Let's go." I'm burning with annoyance at these elves, and I don't trust myself to say another word to them. I stride away and leave the camp, my friends coming along behind. 

"I was almost afraid she wasn't going to give it to us after all," Merrill says. "You _are_ going to give it to me, aren't you?" 

"Of course," I say, handing it to her. "Don't be silly." I smile at her. "I don't care if your clan has turned their backs upon you. You will always be welcome with _us_." 

"Thank you," Merrill says, brightening immediately. 


	11. Relapse Terror

Theryn and Lariole came by later that evening to be teleported back to Vigil's Keep. If they thought anything of what had transpired, they kept it to themselves. 

And Merrill has returned to working on the Eluvian. I wish I knew how the Nexus really worked, if the principle is even remotely similar, that I might be of more assistance with the project. But the Nexus has such a high energy requirement that it isn't possible outside of the Fade. Excuse me, the Ethereal Plane, I suppose I should say. I've spent so long in Thedas that I'm used to thinking in terms of local terminology. 

When I sleep, I see dead elves, their blood running along the stone floor. Not the elves who were killed by the varterral. Just another nightmare that fades upon waking. 

By the time I wake, the midday sun is streaming in through the windows of my bedroom. I sigh and get dressed quickly, and head outside into Hightown. I need some air. I need to relax. 

I meander through the Hightown markets, casually browsing the various goods on display without really seeing or caring about them. 

"Did you hear about the Gallows?" one noblewoman gossiped to another. 

"Oh, yes! My brother told me about it." 

"The templar?" 

The second noblewoman nodded. "There was a big hole in the ceiling, and the knight-commander's office was completely destroyed!" 

"Do you think it was the doing of some maleficars? Abominations?" 

"Nobody seems to know for sure!" 

"Was anyone hurt?" 

"Some mages and templars were injured, but the only one they think was killed was the knight-commander herself, Maker bless her." 

"Ah, Messere Chelseer," says a man as I pass by his stall. "Your associates have given much assistance with the Bone Pit mine. I don't know what I would do without them." 

Oh, right, that stupid mine that Tom somehow acquired partial ownership of for some unfathomable reason. Well, it provides plenty of diversion for our friends to avoid becoming bored, as it seems like a month doesn't pass without it being infested by dragons, spiders, undead, more dragons, and whatever else. 

"You'd probably... stop trying to get anything out of that mine?" I say with a shrug. 

"Yes, and thanks to your friends, we can all profit! You have a discount on all my wares, of course." 

"I'm just browsing right now, but thanks," I say, absently looking off through the marketplace. 

I freeze, almost in mid-word, as I spot a familiar figure also browsing the market stalls. Suzcecoz, but with normal brown eyes rather than golden, although for a moment I thought she looked like a different slightly familiar figure from a very long time ago. 

"Do you have those tubes I ordered?" Suzy asks the merchant she's speaking with. 

"Ah, yes, Messere Lawson," he replies. "They just came in today." 

"Excellent," Suzy says with a grin. "Have them brought to my estate at once." 

Lawson. That was it. Susan Lawson was the Headmistress of the Salem Witches' Institute back on Wizarding Earth. I knew I'd seen her somewhere before, but I didn't make the connection until I saw her with normal-colored eyes. Such a small, simple thing. It really should not surprise me that she might have a counterpart in at least one of the worlds I've visited. Especially considering how accepting Lawson was of dark magic. 

Even after our agreements, however, I still can't help but be nervous around her, anymore than I could be comfortable around a Dementor. She might as well have the aura of cold terror about her, for all that I fear she could destroy me utterly on the slightest whim. 

Quietly, I slip back into my house, hoping that I hadn't been noticed but knowing that she'd never previously dared to approach it before anyway, so I'm unlikely to be disturbed there. 

I hole myself away from the world for some time, absently watching the comings and goings in the household as my friends leave and return from one adventure or another. There was a time when I would have been driven to join them, to seek to be a part of every potentially interesting thing happening in my general vicinity. But something has changed. 

"Lexen, you're moping," Tom finally says after a few weeks of that. 

"I am not," I reply. 

"You totally are," Tom says. "What's the problem?" 

"There isn't any problem, and I'm not moping." 

"Then let's go out and do something," Tom says. "We don't even have to kill anything if you don't want to. We can go and, I don't know, pick flowers on the coast or something!" 

I give him a strange look for a moment. 

"For alchemical ingredients, you know?" Tom adds. 

"Uh-huh, right," I say. 

"But no, seriously," Tom says, leaning against the arm of my chair. "You're not fooling me. What's really the problem?" 

"Suzy's out there," I murmur. 

"Is that it?" Tom says. 

"There's plenty to study in here, and helping Merrill with the Eluvian has been very enlightening, _and_ I have been spending time with my wife and daughter." 

"You're hiding," Tom says, smirking at me. "Cowering in fear." 

"Would you prefer if I went out and did something foolish and stupid that would get us both destroyed?" 

Tom shakes his head and says incredulously, "I have to wonder how you ever managed to get sorted into Gryffindor in your first life." 

"Youthful stupidity," I say with a shrug. "You'll note that the damned hat decided that Ravenclaw was a better fit soon enough." 

"And this is why you're sitting inside the house studying and hiding rather than taking a risk that might just wind up being more profitable," Tom says. 

"Have you been talking to Suzcecoz?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. 

"Oh, yes, I have," Tom says with a grin. "She knows things about Soul Magic that I could not have imagined were even possible." 

"Somehow, I find the idea of the two of you combining brainpower to be utterly terrifying," I say dryly. 

"You have no need to fear _me_ , Lexen," Tom says. 

"I'd like to think that, Tom," I say. "I _want_ to think that." I sigh. 

"Haven't we already been through this?" Tom asks, frowning a little at me. 

"There are times when I have to wonder if this all wasn't just some big mistake," I say. "If I should have just left well enough alone and not messed around with my soul in the first place. I don't know." 

"Is that what you really think?" 

"I don't know," I repeat. "I really don't know. I can't imagine... I can't imagine living without you. Without her. Without Rispy. Just going on by myself throughout the universe, forever alone, with any friends I might have being as fleeting as the passing of time." 

Tom turns away and sits down cross-legged in front of the hearth. "I wasn't lying to you before, you know. It can be done, I believe. I can take just enough of you to have your power, and patch it up with just enough of me that your own soul remains whole, and we break the bond and go our separate ways..." 

I stare at him quietly, not sure what to say to that. 

"Is that what you really want?" Tom asks, not looking at me. 

"I don't know," I say softly. "I just... don't know." 

"It might be for the best," Tom says. "After spending some amount of time together, perhaps it is inevitable that people will grow tired of being around one another, and yet so dependent upon the other that they cannot live with them and cannot live without them." 

"I don't know that I even want to consider the possibility," I say. 

Tom snorts softly. "You're a Time Mage. And honestly, if you're really so attached to me, to Cassie, to anyone, you can feel free to go back and fall in love with us over and over, as many times as might satisfy you, every time a fresh start. And just not tell us of the possibility of Soul Bonds in the first place." 

"I don't know if I could do that," I say. "And besides, it wouldn't be a fresh start for _me_." 

"I could always Obliviate you, you know," Tom says glancing at me with a smirk. "I could even tie in a contingency spell, so that it will make sure to Obliviate you whenever you die, too. You would be able to get all the fresh starts you could possibly ever want." 

"I don't know if I could live like that, either," I say with a sigh, clenching my eyes shut. 

"Just think about it," Tom says. 

"I don't want to think about it," I say. 

"You can't just keep moping about forever, afraid to do _anything_ because something might happen to you," Tom says. "And don't even try to tell me that you aren't moping. You try to pretend you're alright, while acting like there's an army of Dementors standing outside the door just waiting to suck your soul out." 

"I thought I was doing better," I whisper. "Relapse, I guess..." 

"If you can't manage to live in the same city as something you perceive as a potential threat, then let us just _leave_ ," Tom says, shifting around to face me. "Much as I like it in Kirkwall, I can't stand seeing you like this. Something has to give." 

"I'm sorry, Tom," I say with a sigh. 

"No apologizing," Tom says, standing up and coming back over toward me. 

Just then, a little figure trundles out of the hallway. "Daddy?" 

She's followed by the much larger figure of Maraas. "She wished to see her father." 

I stand up and crouch down beside her. "My baby girl is walking already?" I say with a touch of surprise. 

Raven is larger than I had expected, looking at least a full year older than she ought to be right now. Perhaps I should not be surprised, given that she's tied in with my Soul Magic, but it's still a slightly worrying condition nonetheless. I wouldn't have expected that, under normal circumstances, she would be able to use that power for many years yet. Does she remember something, anything, from being the archdemon, from being the Old God, Urthemiel? 

"Why is Daddy sad?" Raven asks. 

Walking and speaking in complete, coherent sentences already. I should be more glad about this than I am. I blink at her slowly, not sure what to say to her. 

"Don't worry about it, Raven," I tell her softly. "It's just Daddy being silly." 

"Daddy's silly," Raven repeats. "Daddy's sad. Daddy's scared." 

"Daddy's scared for you, baby," I murmur. "I don't want anything bad to happen to you." 

"Daddy don't need to be scared for me," Raven says quietly. "Baby... Raven... I can take care of myself," she adds haltingly. 

"Can you, now?" I say, raising an eyebrow at her. 

"Uh-huh!" Raven says enthusiastically. "If anyone pokes me, I eat them!" 

"I think I should be more worried about that than reassured..." I say with a smirk. 

"I eat them!" Raven says again. 

I straighten and look down at her, and shake my head a bit. "I'm going out with Tom now. You be good for Maraas, you hear? No eating anybody." 

"Okay!" Raven says brightly. 

I vaguely gesture to Tom and head for the basement exit, not really caring to take a stroll through Hightown at the moment. 

"Where are we going?" Tom asks. 

I shrug. "Somewhere. Anywhere. Don't know. Don't care. Let's kill some thugs, or templars, or darkspawn, or giant spiders, or something." 

As we walk past her room, Merrill pokes her head out and says, "Oh, are you going somewhere?" 

I smirk at her and say, "Do you just hang out and eavesdrop waiting to see if someone is going out so you can tag along with them?" 

"The basement stairs are right next to my room," Merrill says. 

"The Eluvian reconstruction has been going pretty well ever since we got the arulin'holm, hasn't it?" I ask. 

"Oh, yes," Merrill says. "Come and look, see for yourself." 

Tom and I step in through the door. The ornate mirror sits in the center of the room, whole and undamaged, physically at least, but no sign of a reflection or anything else can be seen within the glass. The mirror is opaque as gray smoke. 

"Useless! It's still broken! I don't know what I might be doing wrong at this point," Merrill says. "I've been thinking I might have to go back up to Sundermount and ask the spirit for help in completing the construction." 

"No, Merrill," I say firmly. 

"I was going to ask if you would be willing to come along and help, and make sure nothing goes wrong," Merrill says. 

"We're not consorting with demons, Merrill," I say with a sigh. 

"I was hoping that you, of all people, would understand," Merrill says, pouting a little and looking hurt. "You know how much this means to me!" 

"Yes, and we can figure out what's wrong on our own and get it working without the dubious help of any demons," I say. 

"I think the spirit is the best source of information," Merrill says. "The two of you and Kirlin are quite skilled mages, but you just don't know much about how this really works. The demon does!" 

I sigh and rub my forehead. 

"I'm going up to Sundermount to contact that spirit again, with or without you," Merrill says. "And you can't stop me." 

"We most certainly _can_ stop you," Tom says. "However, Lexen is attempting to convince you as to why this is a bad idea rather than merely forcing it upon you. And I quite concur with his assessment. Why do you think the demon agreed to help you in the first place? Do you seriously think that it was merely trying to be friendly? No, it wants something from you, there's no question about that. The only real question is what." 

"What?" Merrill says, blinking at him. 

"Did you really think that a demon was helping you out of the kindness of its heart?" Tom says, snorting softly. "Spirits are not people. They are not like you or me. They are the singular embodiment of an aspect of humanity. They do not think like us. They do not comprehend anything beyond the emotion or quality that they represent. And you were _not_ working with a spirit of compassion." 

"I know I should be careful when dealing with spirits," Merrill says. "I am not that foolish." 

"My point is that it is completely unnecessary to deal with this demon at all," Tom says. "We've already said that we'll do whatever we can to help, and will accumulate any resources from _anywhere_ that we need to in order to accomplish this. Is that not enough for you?" 

"Merrill," I say quietly. "Have I ever told you about the time I was possessed?" 

Merrill blinks at me with a touch of surprise. "No, you haven't. You were possessed? When was this? What happened? How did you--" 

I hold up my hand and cut off her babbling questions. "It was a terrible mistake, but it was _my own_ mistake, and _my own_ fault. And it was utterly terrifying because I realized just then how much danger the world and everyone around me was in danger because of my own actions. Because of _my mistake_. And worst of all was losing control of myself." 

"That... That sounds awful," Merrill says. 

"I can't give you the details on how I got the demon out of me," I say. "I'm unclear on what precisely happened, myself. But I can tell you that I never want to repeat the experience, and I definitely do not want to allow a friend to wind up in the same situation." 

"It was a pride demon, by the way," Tom adds quietly. "And I suspect that is the same sort of demon that you were dealing with about the Eluvian, as well." 

Merrill pales a bit, and gives a hesitant nod. "I think... I think I'll just... leave the spirit alone, then. It would-- It would probably be for the best." 

"I'm glad to hear that," I say. "Now, why don't you take a break for a bit, and we can go out and take out our frustrations by inflicting some gratuitous blood magic upon some hapless thugs down in Darktown?" 


	12. Nightmares

Dark dreams haunt my sleep. Not darkspawn dreams, not any longer, not archdemon claws raking at my mind. That is only a memory, a terrible memory that will forever plague my mind unless I take Tom up on his offer. This, however, is a whole different flavor of nightmare. Shadows clinging to the walls, blood oozing upwards between cracks in the stone. Eerily red glowing runes along the floor, filled with the blood of fresh sacrifices. Elven slaves, their throats ritually cut, men in Tevinter robes standing over them. Power swirling all around, tingling at my skin. I'm one of the magisters? Why am I a Tevinter magister? Why am I participating in this atrocity? 

I wake with a startled gasp. That's not the first time I've had a dream like that over the past few years since arriving in Kirkwall, but it's never been quite so vivid before. 

Tom always said that the Veil is weak in Kirkwall. That's why he'd really wanted to set up shop here in the first place. More powerful magic can be accomplished here than other places where the Veil is stronger, much like around Hogwarts. He speculated that there's probably an actual node somewhere under the city, but we haven't found it yet. 

Unfortunately, I think that the Veil is weak because something horrible happened in the city's past, not simply because a lot of magic has been used here. A kind of darkness permeates the city, making it very easy to fall into blood and shadows. 

I sigh softly, get up and get dressed. It's still dark out, just after two in the morning, but I'm not getting anymore sleep tonight, I don't think. I quietly slip out of my room and check in on Kirlin and Raven. They're both fast asleep for the moment, elven woman and elven child snoozing peacefully in their beds. If they've had any nightmares, they don't give any sign of it. 

Without waking anyone, I head out the door of the Hawke estate and into the cool night air of Hightown. I definitely need some air, I think. 

However, without entirely realizing it, I find my feet wandering down the stairs and into Lowtown, and then further down into the shadowy recesses of Darktown. Even beyond there, I meander into forgotten tunnels where no one lives, pushing aside rubble and forcing open hatches along the way. I don't think I would have ever found the place if it weren't for the dreams I keep having, showing me the way. 

As I move aside a final rotting door, I come upon light in the darkness beneath the city. Thirteen candles flickering in a circle on the floor. 

And yet, despite the light, it's dark in a way the eyes cannot entirely perceive. Shadows cling to the walls. Shadows cling to my very soul. Reaching at me, prying at me like clawed fingers. 

"Ah. So you came. Not many come down here," says a voice from ahead. Out from the far doorway steps Suzcecoz Ilawi. 

"Suzcecoz..." I murmur, staggering and trying to steady myself against the wall. "What are you doing here?" 

"Making use of the node, of course," Suzy says. "Have you ever felt such a powerful convergence of dark energy before? It's glorious!" She beams wildly. 

"It's... intoxicating," I say quietly. My head is spinning and my vision blurring, and I can barely stay upright. While I'm no stranger to the whispers of demons, here they seem to press in from all sides. My heart pounds like thunder. 

Suzy looks at me for a long moment, and then laughs. "I would have expected even a mortal dark mage should be able to handle this better." 

"I'm not a dark wizard, nor a blood mage," I reply. "I mean, I _use_ those sorts of powers, but I don't define myself by that!" 

"You don't need to focus solely on something to embrace it properly," Suzy says. "No, you... you hesitate. You are afraid. You stand at the edge, at the threshold, afraid of the price of power, don't you." 

"Don't talk to me about fear," I mutter, letting out a heavy breath and leaning my back against the wall. 

"I think you fear _changing_ your existence more than you do losing it," Suzy says. 

"You don't know anything about me," I growl softly. 

"If I'm wrong, then prove it to me," Suzy says with a snort. "Quit _melting_ just from being in a dark magic node." 

"I don't need to prove anything to you." I do, however, straighten and push away the whispers with a force of will. She does have a point. I'm a damned mage, and not some wilting Circle apprentice that won't even succeed their Harrowing. 

"Feel the power here. Let it flow through you and make you strong..." Suzy giggles at that. "Oh, I sound ridiculous saying that, don't I. What kind of a cliched villain am I?" 

"You said it, not me." I snort softly. "So what are you doing with the node, anyway?" 

"Interested in my experiments, are you?" Suzy grins at me. "I've been experimenting with Soul and Time Magic, if you must know. In fact, I'll tell you all about it... for a price." 

"What price?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at her. 

"Oh, not much... I just want a bit of blood." She looks at me wickedly. "Your blood." 

There's times that I don't entirely appreciate having dragon's blood, and this is one of them. At least it's less than obvious to most people that I'm effectively a winged, scaly lizard on the inside. 

"I don't trust you, Suzcecoz," I say, giving her a hard look. 

"Fine," Suzy says. "How about I throw you a bone, as a show of good faith?" She licks her lips. "You don't need the Nexus. You never needed the Nexus. That's not what lets you travel through time. You can go wherever, whenever you want, without it, provided you know how to do so. The Nexus just provided a boost to compensate for your lack of skill with using your own power. Now, are you satisfied?" 

I stare at her for several long moments, gaping a little. That doesn't help in knowing _how_ , but to know that it's even _possible_ is incredible. "How did you find this out?" 

"I'm not the best of the Elkandu for no reason," Suzy says. "I may not be have the most raw power, but I _think_ about things and experiment and try to figure out how things actually work." 

"Suzcecoz..." I whisper, and take in a deep breath. "I do not fear the price. I will do anything and pay any price..." 

"Now that's what I like to hear," Suzy says with a grin. 

Is it the temptation of power? A promise that I cannot say no to? Whispers I cannot ignore, offers I cannot refuse? I don't know, but this place has quickly come from being disquieting to thrilling. 

I step forward, into the circle of candles in the center of the room, and the runes on the floor flare to life with golden light that belies their darker nature. Motes of energy swirl around Suzcecoz, vibrant fiery gold. It seems a strange color for a demon to have as her magical signature. 

"Kneel," Suzcecoz says, and I drop to my knees. She brings forth a runed knife, takes my left hand, and slices open my wrist. Blood pours out onto the floor, and power rushes through my veins like molten lava, like lightning. The runes glow blindingly when my blood strikes them. 

My head spins. Light-headed. Screaming. Pain. _Agony_. Blue... yellow... white... 

* * *

I wake in my bed and sit bolt upright with a gasp. Still feeling weak, I stagger to my feet and into the hallway. 

Raven is screaming. Kirlin picks her up and tries to comfort her. 

"Lexen?" Tom says, coming out into the hallway and putting a hand on my shoulder to steady me. "Lexen, what happened? What the _fuck_ happened?" 

"I found the node under the city," I hiss softly in Parseltongue. "Suzcecoz was there..." 

"There was a massive surge of dark magic," Tom says. "What did you do down there? What did _she_ do?" 

"I let her... take my blood," I hiss. "For a ritual..." 

"You let her _sacrifice_ you?" Tom says incredulously. "I'm the only one who is allowed to sacrifice you!" 

"Sorry," I say sheepishly. "She tempted me with power and knowledge!" 

"Oh," Tom says. "Well, that's understandable, then." 

Ketojan emerges from his own room and approaches us. "You felt it too, I take it? The magic surge?" 

"Fuck," I mutter. "Did _every_ mage in Kirkwall feel that?" 

"It is very likely," Tom replies with a frown. 

"Did you do something, Lexen?" Ketojan asks. 

"Sort of..." I say tentatively. 

Ketojan cocks his head at me and frowns as well. 

"Raven is upset," Kirlin says with a sigh, stepping out along with us, holding the three-year-old girl in her arms. 

"Oh..." Merrill says as she comes out of the woodwork as well. "So it _wasn't_ just me. I have to wonder sometimes, you know, whether everyone can really see or feel all the things that I do or not. You _did_ all feel it, too, didn't you?" 

"Yes, Merrill," Tom says with strained patience, glancing over at more people poking their heads out as well. "Go back to sleep, everyone, if you can. Except for Lexen and Ketojan. You're with me." 

Kirlin sighs. "I'll try to calm the little one down. Take Rispy with you, too." 

Tom nods. "Good idea. Dwarves are naturally resistant to magic, after all. Ketojan, go wake Rispy." The kossith nods and walks off. 

"What's going on here, son?" Malcolm asks. 

"Don't worry about it, father," Tom says. "We'll check it out." 

"I should go with you, as well," Malcolm says. 

"We'll be fine," Tom insists. 

"That sort of energy... there's a demon loose in the city," Malcolm murmurs. "A powerful one, no doubt about it." 

"We've faced demons before, Father," Tom says. He tries his best to hide it, but he's worried. As much as he might play up being 'evil' sometimes, he really does want to keep his family out of harm's way as much as possible. I don't think he would really let the world burn if they were still in it. 

"I don't know that this is even necessary," I say, but my train of thought is quickly silenced by a hard look from Tom. 

"Is there trouble?" Rispy asks as he returns with Ketojan. Does he sleep in his armor or something? He was up and ready to go so fast you'd think there's an army at our doorstep. 

"Father," Tom says, looking fiercely at Malcolm. "Please stay here and let us take care of this. If there's danger, someone needs to protect Bethany and Mother." 

Malcolm considers this for a moment, and then nods tersely. "Be careful out there, son." 

My group heads out of the house and into the chill Kirkwall night. There's a tenseness in the air, like a shadow hanging over the city, a sense of worry and fear. 

"So, somebody mind explaining what's going on?" Rispy asks. "We _will_ get to fight something, won't we? You better not have woken me up in the middle of the night if we don't get to fight anything." 

"The dwarf is grumpy," Ketojan mutters. "Did I interrupt a nice dream?" 

Rispy snorts softly. "Dwarves don't dream. Not unless they're Grey Wardens, anyway. And those dreams aren't nice." 

"There's a powerful, dangerous abomination doing something underneath the city," Tom says. "Do you know what she was intending to do, Lexen?" 

I shake my head. "She didn't say, aside from that she was experimenting." 

"Whatever she's doing, it can't be good," Tom says, peering at me intently. "You don't appear to have acquired any new bonds, at least." 

"I should hope not," I say with a scowl. 

"Show us where this node was," Tom says. "Lead the way." 

I nod, and make my way back down toward the dark recesses beneath Kirkwall. As we're crossing Lowtown, however, a patrol of templars intercepts us. 

"You there!" the squad leader says. "Have you noticed any unusual magical activity tonight?" 

"No, serah," Tom replies. 

"Huh, what a motley group," one of the templars mutters. "Two humans, a dwarf, and an ox-man." 

"Quiet," the leader tells him, then looks back to us. "Where were you lot going at this time of night? No, it's not my problem if you're thugs looking to rob someone. We're looking for mages tonight. The city guard can take care of common thieves." 

"Well, _I'm_ certainly no mage," Rispy says. "I'm a dwarf!" 

"Can we go now?" Tom says impatiently. "It's been a long night, and I'd like to get a drink at the Hanged Man." 

"Carry on," the templar leader says. "But if you see anything suspicious, anything involving mages, come find a templar immediately." 

"Of course, serah," Tom says, and they walk away. 

Once the templars are out of sight, Ketojan murmurs, "Very alert, those templars." 

"They are dangerous to us and we should be cautious around them, nonetheless," I say. "I will not make the mistake of underestimating my enemies, especially when they can strip from me everything that makes me alive." 

"True," Ketojan says. "Better to have my tongue cut out than to be made Tranquil, from what you have described to me." 

He's come a long way from the Qunari mage who blindly followed and barely thought about what he was doing. It hasn't always been easy adjusting, but I'm proud of him, really. 

I lead the group down the path I'd traversed before, down through Darktown and into long forgotten, unoccupied tunnels far beneath Kirkwall. The closer we draw to the node, the more intense the feeling of dark energy coursing around us, like something alive. Pulsing like a heartbeat. It's almost as if it's _breathing_. 

I'm not just imagining things. These tunnels aren't as deserted as they were before. Dark figures, snarling and flailing, swarm out of the shadows to attack us. Without hesitation, I let out a storm of lightning to strike them down before they can reach us. 

"What the fuck?" Rispy murmurs as he goes to take a closer look at one of the corpses. "These are darkspawn! Not quite like any I've ever seen before, but they're darkspawn, alright." 

"What did she _do_?" I hiss, and shake my head. I pull out my wand and say, " _Expecto Patronum!_ " Only a quickly stifled wisp of light emerges, however. 

"Too much dark power here," Tom says. "It's smothering any attempts at light magic." 

"Rispy," I say, turning to the dwarf. "Go find Duncan. Muster up any Grey Wardens who might happen to be around. I don't know how many darkspawn might be running around down here, but I don't want to take the chance." 

Rispy nods tersely. "Will do." He parts ways with us and goes to hurry back toward the surface. 

The three of us press on, blasting our way through darkspawn as we go. Destructive magic certainly isn't hindered by the saturation of dark energy here -- it's stronger, if anything, and tugs at my soul urging me to _burn_. I keep a tight control on myself, however. I don't want to bring down the city by mistake if I lose my head here. 

Ketojan grits his teeth and rumbles, "I will not submit to you, demons..." 

"You okay?" I ask. 

"It is... difficult to maintain control here," Ketojan replies. 

"If you can't handle it, then go back," I say. "I don't need you turning into an abomination in front of me." 

Ketojan steels his eyes and continues on. "I will not submit. No one is the master of me but me." 

I nod to him tersely, and we move on, lightning the tunnels up with flame and lightning as we descend into the bowels of Kirkwall. 

We reach the node, all lit up with unnatural golden light, pulsating outward like a small sun under the earth. It's too bright, and I can't make out what's in the center of it, but even as I squint into the light, another group of dark silhouettes cut into it. 

Tom drops the darkspawn with a volley of quick curses. "The Veil is so thin here as to be nonexistent," he says softly. 

"Are the darkspawn coming from the Fade?" I wonder, staggering a little against the waves of unbridled energy rippling through the world around me. 

"Not just the Fade..." Tom breathes, stepping boldly into the node as though unaffected by it. 

Beside me, Ketojan steadies himself against a wall, but he still refuses to retreat or back down even in the face of this tainted light. I step up behind Tom, pushing through the almost tangible waves of raw energy. 

"It's... it's the Black City," Tom utters. 

Before us, the node opens up a portal across the Fade straight into the streets of the Black City. Spiring, dark formations curve along the streets, and black runes run along the ground. I realize in an instant exactly what I am looking at. I'd know this place anywhere, even if the sky is sickly yellow instead of purple, and even if the streets are black instead of glowing cyan. I haven't spent a lot of actual time there, but I go there every time I reset. I still see Sedder's face in my dreams sometimes... 

It's Torn Elkandu. Not the one from home, but it looks like the Black City is _this_ universe's equivalent of Torn Elkandu. 

"More darkspawn," Ketojan says, the oncoming wave of the foul creatures breaking me out from my thoughts. 

I pass through the portal with a shudder, as though dipping into icy cold water and molten lava, charged with electricity. That's definitely not normal. Most portals I've seen, you might not even notice the moment you crossed over to the other side. 

We bring magic to bear against the darkspawn, but there are so many of them, pouring out from the center of the city. If this were the other Torn Elkandu, I'd think that would be where the Nexus was. Could it be the same here? Perhaps the darkspawn aren't even originally from this world at all... 

"You should not have followed me here," Suzcecoz says from ahead of us. 

She's in her demonic form, standing against a black, corrupted structure that is unmistakably a Nexus. Mist and light swirls within the eight obelisks, giving flashes of someplace else. 

"Suzcecoz, what are you doing?" I ask. 

"Attempting to recalibrate this damned Nexus so that it stops spitting out darkspawn, for starters," Suzy says. "It's annoying. So shut up and let me work, or give me a hand here." 

I stare at her for a moment, then gesture to Tom and Ketojan, and head over to assist with the Nexus. I don't really know what's going on, but halting the flood of darkspawn would be a good start. If this Nexus is anything like the one in Torn Elkandu, it might take hours to stabilize it again after it has become unstable. On the other hand, if it were like that one, why would it have been locked open to wherever the darkspawn are coming from? 

Tom, Suzy, and I work on the Nexus while Ketojan blasts any darkspawn that come through. There's so much magic flowing through this place that it makes my hair stand on end. I lose track of time as we work, concentrating and trying not to let my thoughts drift back to wondering what's going on back in Kirkwall and if people are worrying about us. 

Finally, the Nexus flickers for a moment, and the glowing mist between it wisps away into nothingness. The black tide has been stemmed. 

"About time," Suzy says, then turns her attention to us. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you came, Stormseeker, nor that your bondmate came with you, but I'm surprised that the kossith came with you." 

Ketojan gives her a hard look, but says nothing. 

Tom looks to the sky, and glances around the area. "I'm noting a distinct lack of a Maker here." 

"Don't say it," Suzy says, wincing. 

"Why not?" Tom wonders. 

"Because the last thing I need is a deity like Shazmar showing up here." 

"Who?" Tom asks. 

"Hi!" says a bright child's voice. Hovering three feet above the ground is an elven boy, perhaps five years old. 

"Fuck," Suzy mutters. "Go away, Shazmar! You're not even supposed to be here." 

"Am I to believe that the Maker is a small elf child?" Ketojan asks, looking critically at the boy. 

"Nah, nah," Shazmar says, waving his hand absently. "He's not here right now. He's such a fuddy-duddy. But that's okay. You get me, instead!" 

"Shazmar, you are the primary cause of alcoholism amongst Elkandu," Suzy says. "The second being Time Magic." 

Tom blinks at the two of them, and says quietly to me, "I have no idea what is going on now. Are your people typically like this?" 

"I wouldn't know," I reply. "Although I'll concur about Time Magic causing alcoholism." 

"So are the Qunari wrong about this also?" Ketojan asks. "The gods truly exist?" 

"Of course we exist," Shazmar says indignantly, then laughs. Several brightly colored balls appear in his hands, and he juggles them casually. 

"Much as we might wish they didn't," Suzy says with a groan, turning away from the godly boy with a shake of her head. "Anyway. Thanks for the help. I'm taking over the universe now, so tata." 

Before I can respond, the Nexus flares to life, and Tom, Ketojan and I suddenly find ourselves back in the Hawke estate in Kirkwall. 

I blink slowly, then mutter, "Fuck." 


	13. Impossibilities

"What the fuck just happened?" Tom says. 

I stare, stunned, at the walls of the manor that has been my home for the last three years. "And after all that, she didn't even give me the knowledge she promised," I mutter. 

"What's going on?" Kirlin says, coming into the main room carrying Raven, who is quieter now if still clearly upset. 

"The abomination intends to take over the universe," Ketojan says with a frown. "We should not have assisted her." 

I clench my fist and grit my teeth as rage boils up in my veins. I was a fool to trust her. I should have known better. I should have known that demons can never be trusted. Ever. 

I should not have allowed myself to be tempted. I let greed and lust for power momentarily overcome my common sense. I allowed fleeting emotions to blur my judgment. There must not be any temptation. There must only be choice. If I should fall to darkness, let it be by _my own choice_. 

"Lexen..." Tom breathes, peering about. "Do you feel that? Something is happening... The Veil--" 

The world almost seems to shimmer for a moment, and Ketojan lets out a roar. He doubles over and clutches his head. In moments, his body warps and twists into an abomination. 

Whispers echo in my ears. Demons batter against my Occlumency shields. From down the hall, Merrill lets out a shriek, and a moment later, a desire demon steps out of her room, purple energy swirling around her. 

"What the fuck..." I mutter, raising my hand to hold them in place with magic. 

Screams tear through the air outside the manor. I rush to the window to look outside. In the gray light of dawn, people who were just starting to wake up to go about their morning business are transforming all around Hightown. And behind me, my friends aren't any exception, aside from the ones who are bonded to me. 

I can't allow this. Without a moment's hesitation, I age myself down and out of existence, and send myself back. 

* * *

I wake in a cold sweat and scramble to get dressed in a rush. It's dark outside the windows. Midnight again. The people in my house are stirring, their sleep disturbed, and Raven is crying. 

"We have to stop her," Tom says quietly from behind me. 

I nod in agreement. "Even with our help, it took her several hours to get the Nexus under control. It will take even longer if we don't help." 

"I'm not putting bets on anything right now," Tom says. "Let's get down there and destroy her." 

"By the Stone, what happened?" Rispy wonders as we step out into the hallway, adjusting his belts a bit. 

"Trouble," I reply. "Big trouble. We're gonna need the Grey Wardens again, most likely." 

"I'm on it," Rispy says, nodding tersely and heading out. 

"What's going on?" Malcolm asks, coming out with his staff in hand. 

Tom visibly pales upon seeing him. I wasn't looking that way before, but I think Tom must have just watched his family transform into abominations. 

"There's a demon attempting to take over the universe," Tom says in a tight voice. "We've got to stop her, at any cost." 

Malcolm stares at him silently for a long moment, as if realizing that he's probably _not_ exaggerating, then nods. 

"And we have a day to do it, tops," Tom says. "Maybe not even that long." 

"Then we're wasting time standing around talking about it," Malcolm says. "Let's go. I'm behind you all the way." 

Tom doesn't even argue the point this time. He calls forth everyone in the house that can fight, and leaves Bethany and Carver behind to protect their mother and Raven, just in case. In minutes, our group is filing out through the basement entrance and into Darktown. 

As before, once we reach the tunnels, we start encountering darkspawn. They're weak, for the most part, and no real challenge for my group, although I'm worried that someone might wind up getting infected, especially the hand-to-hand fighters like Fenris and Maraas. I try to reassure myself that we can attempt at Ritual of Purification if we can succeed here. And even if that doesn't work out and we lose someone... that's a small price to pay to stop this demon from her schemes. The universe is at stake. Maybe even the entire multiverse. 

And it's all my fault. 

We reach the node below the city, radiant with tainted light. It had never really occurred to me before that light might be evil, and that there might be such corruption in such shimmering gold. 

However, although we can see perfectly fine through the portal into the Black City and the darkspawn have no trouble pouring out, when we approach the node to attempt passage, nothing happens. We remain firmly where we are, standing in the midst of light and energy underneath Kirkwall. 

"What's going on?" I wonder, scowling and trying to go through again. 

"Damn it," Tom utters. "She must have blocked it from the other side. The portal is one way." 

"That's different..." I murmur. "That didn't happen last time. Are you sure she's not bonded to me?" 

Tom peers at me intently. "I don't detect anything. She must have some other way of gaining information of your activities." 

I honestly don't care any longer if any of those here who may not fully know my abilities and circumstances can figure it out. It really seems unimportant at the moment, all things considered. 

"Is that... the Black City?" Malcolm breathes, peering through the node over our shoulders. 

I nod. "That's where she is." 

"Maker help us," Malcolm murmurs. 

"He doesn't appear to be being very attentive at the moment, no," I reply with dry humor I don't feel. 

"We need another way into the Fade," Tom says. 

Malcolm frowns. "Did this portal lead into the Fade? Bodily, that is?" 

Tom and I both nod in response. 

"That's extremely dangerous..." Malcolm says. 

"We don't have much choice," Tom says. 

I shake my head. "We have a choice. I'm _choosing_ to protect this world however I can. And if she should take over this world, any other world may wind up being in danger as well. Choosing to do nothing here, or to flee, is not a good option, even if it's an option." 

Rispy and Duncan arrive, leading a party of Grey Wardens. Duncan being retired isn't going to stop him from defending the city he happens to be in when it's being invaded by darkspawn. 

"Is this where the darkspawn are coming from?" Duncan asks. 

I nod. "We can't get in through this way. We're going to need to find another way in. Can the Grey Wardens hold down the fort here and keep the city from being overrun long enough for us to find a way to stop this?" 

"We have reinforcements coming in as quickly as possible," says one of the Grey Wardens, saluting me respectfully. "We will hold the line. They won't get past us." 

I nod sharply, and turn to my companions. "The rest of you are with me." 

We turn and head back toward the surface again, along the way discussing possibilities for getting at Suzcecoz before she can take control of the magical construction inside the Black City. 

"We could risk going to the Gallows and ask First Enchanter Orsino for assistance," Malcolm says, frowning. "Under the circumstances, it may be worth it. A Circle of Magi would have enough lyrium and mages to send someone into the Fade." 

"Father, between us all, _we_ have enough mages and lyrium to send someone into the Fade, even without resorting to blood magic for it," Tom points out. 

"However, that would only send in the spirit rather than allow physical entry," Kirlin says. "I don't know if that would be good enough." 

"And do you intend to stop this demon by sending in one person, alone?" Malcolm says dubiously. 

"That could be a problem, however," Tom says. 

"Maybe the Eluvian could do it!" Merrill suggests brightly. "I haven't tried actually using it yet, but with all the help you've been giving me, I think that it's almost ready to be activated again!" 

"We don't have time to experiment with it right now," Tom says. "But we'll keep it in mind if nothing else works." 

"So, what, shall we just go to the Gallows, let them know we're all apostates, and hope that they'll listen to us?" I say. "Sorry, Malcolm, but I don't like the odds of that, either." 

Malcolm sighs and nods. "It was a long shot, anyway." 

Rispy puts in, "Well... I think Sabrae clan might still camped out on Sundermount? We can ask Keeper Marethari to send us in." 

"Oh!" Merrill says. "You think she can do it?" 

Rispy snorted softly. "I _know_ she can. Didn't she ever mention it to _you_? You were her student, weren't you?" 

"There was a lot I hadn't learned yet," Merrill says sheepishly. 

"Did I miss something?" I ask. 

Rispy says, "She sent me, Varric, Fenris, and Anders into the Fade while you was moping, to help that Feynriel fellow with some bad dreams and keep him from getting possessed. And if she can send _dwarves_ into the Fade, she can send anyone." 

"I was not moping," I protest. 

"You totally were," Tom says. 

I snort and don't bother arguing further. "Alright," I say. "There's a good angle to explore." 

Failing all else, I'll try to buy more time by killing myself repeatedly, but if Suzcecoz is really gaining time or information somehow, I can't trust that to keep working forever. There's too many unknowns here, and it bothers me. It really, honestly bothers me. No, it _terrifies_ me. If she thinks that I'm actually trying to stop her... she could end me. She could fucking _end_ me. 

No bandits are foolish enough to attempt to bother my group tonight as we make our way to Sundermount. It's an eerily quiet night, and nature seems to be still, as though holding its breath in fear and anticipation. 

The Dalish camp is awake, even at this hour, murmuring in unease. They do not even bother to hide the fact that they're pointing their arrows at us as we approach. 

"We intend no harm," I say to them gently. 

"That may be so, and yet you bring harm in your wake even still," Keeper Marethari says, approaching us serenely. 

"You felt it all the way out here?" Rispy says. 

"It would not surprise me if they sensed it in Ferelden," Malcolm says. 

"It wouldn't surprise me if they could feel it in _Tevinter_!" Tom adds. 

"We mean to try to stop this," I say with a sigh. "Somehow. We must fight this evil, but we cannot reach it easily. Merrill suggested that you might be able to help." 

"We must enter the Fade," Kirlin says. 

"I see," Marethari says. 

"I hope that ritual you used before can be repeated," Rispy says. "Because this is likely the end of the world, literally, if we don't stop this." 

Marethari looks to the sky, glances to the obscured stars, as if listening to the wind. "There is no time to waste. Come. We must begin preparations immediately." 

We follow her and assist in her preparations. Every moment that passes as dawn creeps closer, I grow increasingly nervous. Every moment we spend wasting time is one less that we can spend fighting Suzcecoz. 

"If anyone's got second thoughts," I address my group, "feel free to stay behind and play rear guard, just in case something else goes wrong while we're in there." 

I couldn't really blame them if anyone wanted to back out at this point. I have no idea what we're going into, or just how we might be able to get to the Black City once we're inside the Fade. After a bit of discussion, we agree on sending in myself, Tom, Kirlin, Rispy, Ketojan, and Malcolm. The remainder stay behind to watch over our sleeping bodies, some of them not fully trusting the Dalish or just being uneasy about the Fade or the entire situation in general. 

The six of us find ourselves in the Fade, and I blink for a moment at our surroundings. Things never seem quite real in the Fade, like a haze as though drunk. And I've been drunk enough to know. I suppose it makes sense, though, considering it's not reality, but Torn Elkandu was never like this. Could it be a sign of some deep-set corruption in the Ethereal of this world, or is it merely a difference between the two universes? 

The ground at our feet is twisted and unreal, and half of a privy sticks out at a weird angle from the Fade island we find ourselves on. Off in the distance, the Black City hangs in the rippling, sickly yellow sky. 

"How are we to reach the Black City?" Malcolm wonders, staring off at it. 

"I hadn't really thought that far ahead," I admit sheepishly. 

Tom stares off at the empty expanse stretching between us and our destination, and replies simply, "We fly." 

"How?" I ask. 

Tom just looks to me meaningfully and as though I'm an idiot, and I smirk. 

I take on my true form. I've done this in the Fade before, even before I could do it in the real world, but it hadn't occurred to me after my injury prevented me from flying in the real world. There's no reason that that should hold true _here_ , however. This is a dream. Anything is possible if I believe it strongly enough. And I cannot afford not to believe. 

Royal blue scales cover my body. My neck extends and my face becomes a snout, and a tail emerges from my bottom. Claws erupt from my fingertips and toes, and my entire skeletal structure rearranges itself. And two broad, whole wings spread out from my back. 

In a dream, I can still fly. 

"Climb on," I hiss to Tom in Parseltongue, and gesture to the others with a turn of my snout. 

The elf, dwarf, two humans, and kossith climb onto my back, some of them more hesitantly than others. I'm not the largest dragon around, and they're a bit much to carry, but I'll manage. It's a dream. I can do anything here. Of course I can manage. 

I turn toward the Black City and launch into the air with a mighty heave of my haunches. Unimaginable nothingness stretches beneath me, interspersed by the occasional twisted bit of solid material. But I have a goal in mind, and I _must_ reach it, regardless of how impossible it seems or the demons that fly at me to try to drive me off course. 

No matter how far I fly, the Black City doesn't seem to be getting any closer. It always seems to hang at exactly the same distance, clearly visible but forever just out of reach. 

"This isn't working," Malcolm says. "I was afraid of that." 

"What are we going to need to do to get there..." Tom murmurs. 

I snarl low in my throat. I will _not_ be stopped by some trick of the scenery! I keep flying, refusing to give up, trying to force my way through the Fade by sheer strength of will alone. 

"Maybe it's because we're not really here," Kirlin says. "We're just dreaming, and not physically in the Fade?" 

"As good a guess as any," Tom says. 

I have no idea how long might have passed since we came in here. Time and perception is strange in the Fade. But suddenly I feel a shift in the air around me, and ahead, the Black City lights up in radiant gold. 

"Shit," I hiss. "We're too late." 

"The... _Golden_ City?" Malcolm breathes. 

I let out a sigh and land at the island below us. The same one we started at, that we hadn't budged an inch from. I shift back into human form and shake my head. "Time to try again." 

* * *

"I've pre-emptively sent a Patronus to Duncan," Tom says as I'm getting hurriedly dressed again. "Do we have a better plan this time?" 

"We're probably going to need to physically enter the Fade somehow," I say. "The question is _how_ we might be able to manage that, with the portal inaccessible." 

"We need Feynriel," Rispy says from behind. He'd managed to get his armor and weapons ready in record time this loop. 

Tom turns to look at the dwarf and says, "Tell me about this incident before." 

"Marethari said that Feynriel's a dreamer," Rispy says. "He's got some sort of innate abilities with manipulating the Fade. I didn't really understand it. Anyway, that made him attractive to demons, so we had to beat them back." 

"Where is he now?" I ask. "Is he still at the Dalish camp?" 

Rispy shakes his head. "He's... um... he went to study his powers in Tevinter." 

I groan softly. "Fuck's sake. I've never been to Tevinter, but I can get us _close_. I don't know if it's close enough to find him within a day and get to the Black City to stop Suzcecoz." 

"Failing all else," Tom says, "we can try to hop further distances over multiple loops, if need be. Hardly ideal, but it might work." 

"Fenris has been there," Rispy says. "Can't you just use _his_ memory of the place to get there?" 

"Hmm," Tom says. "Yes, actually, that would suffice. That would indeed suffice." 

Leaving Rispy and Kirlin to calm down the other mages in the house, Tom and I head over to Fenris's room to wake him up and let him know what's going on. 

"What is it?" Fenris says. "Are we under attack?" 

I shake my head. "The abomination Suzcecoz is about to take over the world, and we need your help to stop her." 

"Of course," Fenris says, instantly alert. "What do you need of me?" 

"A memory of Tevinter," Tom says. "We need to get there as quickly as possible, but you're the only one of us that has actually been there. Just look me in the eye and focus on an image of the place." 

Fenris looks a bit uneasy about that, but after a moment's hesitation, just nods tersely and meets Tom's gaze. 

"Alright," Tom says after a long moment. "Got it." 

"Good luck," Fenris says with a frown. 

Out in the main room, we find that Gellert has arrived as well. "Andraste's flaming knickers, what is going on?" I think he's entirely too fond of the swearing in this world. 

"Saving the world, no time to explain," I say, glancing aside as Kirlin comes into the room as well. 

"You can summarize," Tom says with a smirk. "We need a dreamer in Tevinter to take us into the Fade to go to the Black City to stop that crazy bitch abomination Suzcecoz." 

"Okay," Gellert says, nodding. "Let's go." 

"I'm just going to bring Feyrniel back _here_ ," Tom says. "It would be easier." 

"Fine," Gellert says with a smirk. "Then the rest of you all can just summarize some more in the meantime." 

Tom's form ripples for a moment, and he vanishes with a whoosh followed by a loud crack. Is that what Apparating in this world looks like? 

"So, care to fill me in on some details of just what happened?" Gellert says. "I felt... a strange pulse of energy that woke me up. I didn't think anything of it at first, and then the day reset, twice." 

"Lexen's just an idiot," Rispy says. 

"Pretty much," I say with a sigh. 

I briefly attempt to explains things to him. The minutes tick by, and again I'm growing increasingly nervous. If this fails this time, Tom's going to need to convince him again, and if he can't manage it or it takes too long, we're fucked. 

Raven steps out of the hallway. At least, I'm sure it must be Raven -- she looks at least twelve or thirteen years old now. "I'm going with you," she says. 

"Raven?" I say, raising an eyebrow. "It's not safe--" 

"I _must_ go with you," Raven says, a haunted look in her eyes. "I have to fix this." 

"You... You remember?" I say. 

Raven gives the faintest of nods. "The memories have been coming back, falling into place, bit by bit. I appreciate what you and Mum did for me. The madness is gone... But now I want to help you, too." 

I sigh. "If that's what you wish, I can't stop you." 

As nervous as I am, it doesn't actually take that long for Tom to reappear with Feynriel. 

"Who is this?" Tom wonders, looking to Raven. "No, never mind, I can sense it well enough. I'll not waste precious time with more explanations." 

"I'm glad you're here," I say to Feynriel, breathing a sigh of relief. "Did Tom explain the situation?" 

Feynriel nods. "I'm not sure if I can get you _physically_ into the Fade, but I can try..." 

"We're all going," Tom says. 

"I don't know if I can get _one_ person in, never mind all of you!" Feynriel protests. 

"You can have all the lyrium or blood that you need," I say. 

"You are not sacrificing yourself, Lexen," Tom says. 

"Not that I _wouldn't_ if it would help, but that would be kind of pointless," I say. "Although it did seem to have odd effects." 

"True," Tom admits. "But I don't want to have to convince Feynriel again without trying it without it first." 

Feynriel obviously looks confused, but prepares to make the attempt anyway. We bring out all the lyrium we have available in the house, and I provide a bit of dragon's blood for an additional boost. 

"I'd rather try this at a node," Tom says. "But this will have to do. Failing this, we'll have to attempt to force open Suzcecoz's portal, or open our own at a different node." 

"Here goes nothing," Feynriel says. 

The world ripples around us, shimmering in a haze for a long moment. My mind wrenches, and I have to wonder for a minute if this is even going to work. Then, another snapping into place, we're there. 

I notice the difference immediately. The Fade isn't hazy and unreal now. Well, it's still unreal, but it _looks_ real. We're fully inside, not merely dreaming. 

"You did it, Feynriel," I say, grinning broadly. 

"This... this is different," Malcolm says, looking around. "It looks different, it _feels_ different." 

"Well, one impossible feat down," Tom says. "Now for number two, getting to the Black City." 

"Shit," I mutter. "If we're in here physically, I won't be able to fly." 

Tom snorts. "No reason you shouldn't be able to, with all the magic we're immersed in here. I was able to reform my body from nothing just from being within Torn Elkandu, and while we don't have access to quite that level of mana here, it should still be more than enough for that." 

"Worth a shot, I suppose," I say. 

I shift my form, finding the transformation feeling somewhere between what I would normally expect in the Fade and in the real world. The sheer amount of energy available here does make it quite a bit easier, even if I'm actually changing my physical form rather than merely my perception of it. And yet, when I have completed my shapeshifting, I'm still missing my right wing. 

Tom shakes his head. "Focus your power upon that limb. You can regenerate it. You can grow a new wing. Well, you could probably do that in human form, too, but since this _is_ your natural form, it should likely be easier in this shape." 

I close my eyes and focus on regenerating, healing, reshaping what was lost. I hadn't considered trying anything like this before, especially considering I hadn't even considered attempting to physically enter the Fade. The wound was tainted with darkspawn infection when it was first made, but I think the Ritual of Purification we underwent on Summerday must have cleansed it. 

After what seems like several long minutes of concentration, the wing regrows, slowly extending out from my body again as if I had never been wounded. The new skin feels tender and soft, but healthy. 

I spread out my wings, baring my fangs a draconic grin, and hiss to the others to climb on. We're damned well going to the Black City this time. I _will not_ fail. Once they're on my back, I launch myself into the sky and fly off toward the city hovering in the yellow sky. 

A few minutes after we start flying that way, Feynriel says, "This isn't going to work this way. We're not getting any closer." 

"Is there anything you can do?" Tom asks. "Can you use your dream powers to get us there?" 

"I can certainly try..." Feynriel says. 

Something undefinable shifts in the air around me. I can't place exactly what it was, but Feynriel clearly just did _something_. I just hope that it's enough. 

The Black City draws closer. A thrill of anticipation rushes through my veins as I bring us down at the edge of the city. We made it, this time we actually made it! My brief elation is deflated when I see a shimmering bubble over the city, blocking passage toward the Nexus. 

"Somebody _really_ doesn't want visitors," Gellert comments. 

We start working at finding a way to penetrate the shield. As we hammer at it, there's movement on the far side. Suzcecoz, in full demon form and wreathed in an aura of golden flames, approaches. 

"You're being awfully persistent," Suzy says. "What exactly are you trying to accomplish here?" 

"For starters, you broke your word," I say with a smirk. "You agreed to give me knowledge in exchange for my blood, and you did not do so. Perhaps you merely forgot after you killed me? You seem to have no trouble learning what happened in other timelines regardless." 

"Is that all?" Suzy says. "Then you can come in and help me take over the universe, and I'll tell you everything you need to know and you can use the Nexus to go anywhere in the multiverse you please. How's that sound?" 

I snort softly and I'm about to refuse, when Tom puts in, "That sounds like an excellent idea." 

"Tom!" Kirlin snaps. "How--" She breaks off as Tom holds up a hand to still her protests. 

Malcolm scowls, but says nothing. Feynriel merely looks confused. Poor fellow hardly knows what's going on anymore, it seems. 

"Very well," Suzy says with a crooked grin. "Then swear me an oath and I will let the ward down." 

"You didn't ask for nor offer an oath before," I point out. "You just dangled a show of good faith at me with a small amount of information." 

"You flaunt your intended dishonor by pointing out my own," Suzy says with a shrug. "Neither of us has reason to trust the other." She chuckles softly. "Time Mage and Soul Mage. Which of us could destroy the other first?" 

"You're outnumbered," I say. 

"Doesn't matter," Suzy says. "Most of these you've brought with you are inconsequential, anyway. Although..." 

Suddenly, Suzy's shield flickers for a moment and vanishes. 

"Got it!" Feynriel says. 

Suzy snorts softly. "Damned Dreamers." 

" _Kill!_ " I command, whipping out the Elder Wand in an instant. 

My companions don't need to be told twice. The mages rain down a bombardment of magic upon the demon, and Rispy hails bolts down with his crossbow. Suzcecoz retaliates with multi-colored flames -- red, gold, blue, purple... black. 

A gout of soulfire gutters and spirals toward Tom. 

Moving in slow motion. 

Agonizingly slow... 

I can't stop it. I can't move fast enough. What do I do? I can't get him out of the way. 

Too slow. _Too fucking slow_... 

I step into its path--... 


	14. No Regrets

Your body fell to the ground in slow motion. I almost dropped my crossbow upon seeing the soulfire hit you. Surely you weren't dead. You _couldn't_ die. Could you? You must just be unconscious, or I would have been yanked back in time as usual, I'm sure. Time didn't resume its normal flow until your body settled against the ground. 

" _Avada Kedavra!_ " Tom roared. 

A powerful flash of brilliant green light struck Suzcecoz dead on. As she collapsed, I could swear she had a smile on her face, almost as though she were laughing at us. 

Malcolm stepped up to crouch beside your body and put a hand on him, then shook his head. "He's gone. I'm sorry." 

"Dad?" Raven whispered. 

"He... but... we're still... we're still here..." I stammered, eyes wide in shock. I couldn't believe this. I _wouldn't_ believe this... 

"Is he... is he really gone?" Kirlin murmured. 

Tom's eyes glazed over for a moment as he looked at things beyond the perception of normal eyes. "The bonds are broken," he said quietly, sighing. "I made preparations for this event, but I didn't expect it to happen like this." 

"What did you do, Tom?" Kirlin wondered, turning to pin him beneath a hard gaze. 

Tom snorted softly. "You'd think you didn't trust me or something." 

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Kirlin replied. "Of course I don't, and never did." 

"My son is _not_ untrustworthy," Malcolm protested. 

"Are you going to bicker, or let him explain?" Gellert said to Kirlin. 

"Fine," Kirlin said, looking to Tom and waiting impatient for an explanation. 

"I figured out a way to make the Time Magic work without him," Tom said. "I'd made some adjustments to my bond..." He frowns thoughtfully, and his body shifts to a ten year old boy, then an old man, then back to normal. "Looks like it does still work." 

"You intended to break the bonds?" Kirlin said, scowling at him. 

"No, not just yet," Tom said. "Certainly not without even mentioning it to the rest of you. It looks like the soulfire did that much. I don't think he's really dead, gone, and destroyed, though. That brings me to the other matter..." 

"What _else_ did you do?" Kirlin demands. 

"I've been speaking with Lexen about Memory Charms," Tom said. "About letting him forget some of the things he'd been through in the past that he could never really deal with. I'm sure you saw it yourself. He always had nightmares, had trouble sleeping, jumped at unexpected sounds, he was paranoid, afraid of everything sometimes, and most recently you might have noticed that the slightest thing might set him off into combat alertness, as recently that would make time slow down..." 

Kirlin sighed and nodded. "I've seen it, yes. But he was always adamant about not forgetting anything. He was also terrified of Obliviation, too. Don't tell me you actually went through with it?" 

"I already set it up, without telling him," Tom admitted. "He needed it, and he was too stubborn to come out and actually admit it to anyone else." 

"That wasn't your decision to make," Kirlin insisted. 

Tom shook his head. "In the end, I did leave it up to his own choice, as he would want it. If he subconsciously wished to forget, then he would forget. If he truly wished to remember, then he would stop forgetting and start remembering things again." 

Kirlin frowned. "I suppose that's not so bad, then..." 

"He'll have to find his own balance, in his own time," Tom said with a sigh, staring off at the twisted yellow sky. 

"But can you be sure that he's even still alive?" Kirlin wondered. "Would the soulfire have destroyed him or not?" As she returned to that subject, her voice cracked a little, but she was deliberately trying to remain calm and rational with some effort. 

Tom gestured to the rest of us and walked off toward the Nexus in the center of the Black City. I followed along numbly, still stunned fairly speechless by these events. I didn't expect things to end like this. I'd always thought that we'd just keep going on like this forever. 

There was a swirling field of multi-colored light within the eight obelisks of the Nexus, twisting around like an oil slick, and darkspawn were still pouring out of it. Sniping at them gave me something to take my mind off things and focus on something else for a few minutes, at least, and I think that sentiment was echoed by the others as well. 

"Let's get this damned portal shut down, for starters," Tom said with a sigh. "Mages, give me a hand with this. Rispy, take care of any darkspawn that come through while we're working at it." 

I nodded tersely and set about to keeping watch while the rest of them got to work. Time works strangely in the Fade, and I have no idea how much time passed or how many darkspawn I killed while waiting for them to figure out how to close the portal. But eventually, the maelstrom between the obelisks calmed and stilled. 

"This whole place is saturated with dark magic," Tom said. "No matter. I'm going to see if I can use the Nexus to locate Lexen." 

While he worked at that, the rest of us went over to the side to huddle quietly. I didn't know what to say. 

"I don't really understand what's going on," Feynriel said. 

"I don't know that it really matters anymore, anyway," Gellert said with a shrug. 

"Of course it matters," Kirlin said with a soft sob. "Even if he's dead, Lexen's life, his whole existence, _mattered_. He helped so many people across different worlds. And if he lives still somewhere and has merely forgotten, I would hate for him to _be_ forgotten." 

"What, you don't seriously think that he's always been the good guy?" Gellert said. "What about all the people he's murdered, all the questionable things he's done?" 

Kirlin shook her head. "That doesn't matter." 

"If you don't want him to be forgotten, you can't pick and choose which parts you want to remember," Gellert said. "The dark is a part of him, too, you know." 

"He lives," Tom said after several minutes. "That's all I can be certain of. He's not in this universe or this timeline any longer -- I can't pinpoint just where in spacetime he might be right now. But I was able to trace a resonance from the part of his soul I still have that continues on from the point when he died here." 

"Then... he's still alive?" Kirlin said. 

Tom chuckled darkly. "I doubt that there's anything that can actually kill him. I had a good look at his magic when I had the chance. It's semi-sentient and seems to react to protect itself, and Lexen just happens to get dragged along for the ride. Any real and immediate risk to his life or magic would trigger it. He was just, understandably, unwilling to test its limits." 

"Yeah, who'd try killing themselves just to see if they're immortal?" Gellert said with a snicker. 

"Where did he go, though?" I asked. "Back to Torn Elkandu?" 

Tom shook his head. "If he'd gone there, I would have been able to trace it. I _know_ where Torn Elkandu is. No, he went to a different, indeterminate point. I think his ability to go back to Torn Elkandu depended upon his memories. His regrets. He was always subconsciously wanting to go back and fix things. But if he didn't remember that any longer, if he had no regrets, who knows where he'll wind up? His magic might just put him anywhere." He looked off thoughtfully. "I hope it put him somewhere that he subconsciously wants and needs to be. I hope he has a chance to heal..." 

"What happens to us now?" I asked quietly, hardly daring to speak the question, but knowing I wasn't the only one wondering that. 

"I still have the Time Magic powers," Tom said. "I'm afraid I hadn't set it up for anyone else yet, but if you want it, I can probably figure out a way to manage it. That would be more difficult without Lexen around, but I could look into it anyway." 

"Well, in that case," Gellert said. "Why don't we just take this here Nexus and go home? Go back to the point where we want to go, and live our lives from there?" 

"Hmm," Tom said, then nodded. "I'm guessing that you want to go back to your youth? That was before my time, and you don't have the power any longer, but I can probably manage it by taking the memory of it from your mind." 

"Yeah," Gellert said with unusual somberness. "I'll focus on the memory so you can extract it, and then we can try it." 

Tom stared into his eyes for a long moment, then nodded sharply. "I have it." He turned to the others and said, "The rest of you may as well stay here for the moment. If this works, I'll be back shortly. And if it doesn't, then there's no sense in all of us being lost in time and space. Feynriel can get you back to the real world if I don't return soon." 

"And someone, check up on Connor for me and let his mum know I'm not coming back?" Gellert said. "Kid's turning out to be a brilliant mage. I think he's ready to handle things on his own now." 

Feyrniel nodded, and said, "Good luck." 

Tom chuckled softly. "If Lexen were here, he'd curse you for that sentiment." He smiled, and stepped into the Nexus along with Gellert. 

"Lately, it occurs to me," Gellert said, looking off at us with a faint smile. "What a long, strange trip it's been." 

The space between the obelisks warped and twisted, and in the blink of an eye, Tom and Gellert were gone. 

"That was another Muggle reference, wasn't it," Kirlin muttered. 

"Probably," I said. 

"I hope he comes back," Malcolm said quietly. "I would hate for my son to be gone forever without even a chance to say goodbye..." 

"Normally I'd make some assurance, but I'm not sure of anything anymore," Kirlin said with a frown. 

Tom reappeared in short order, however, and grinned. "Looks like it worked. We successfully arrived in June of 1899. And now he can make sure not to accidentally kill his boyfriend's little sister this time around. And maybe even not become a Dark Lord and start a war." 

Kirlin smiled broadly and said, "It's my turn, then." She turned to Raven and said, "Do you want to come with me? See the world I came from originally?" 

Raven shook her head. "I'd love to, Mum, but I can't. If I have the chance to go back in time and fix something, then I want to go back and stop the Tevinter magisters from making a terrible mistake..." 

Kirlin went over and hugged her tightly. "I'll miss you, baby. I'll miss you. I'll miss you, and Lexen, and Tom, and Rispy, and even that silly, obnoxious Mugglephile, Gellert, too." 

"Maybe someday you'll have another daughter who is a little like me?" Raven said, blinking away tears. 

"You know, you can always adopt me again," Tom put in with a crooked grin. "It would certainly beat that orphanage." 

"You're not staying though, are you?" Kirlin asked, pulling away from Raven. 

Tom shook his head. "I'll take you in to before I was born. The me who was there won't remember you. But I'm sure he'll -- _I'll_ \-- appreciate it nonetheless." 

Kirlin looked thoughtful, then smiled broadly and gave a nod. "I'll figure something out." She went to hug Tom as well briefly. "I should be more sad about this... Lexen is dead and gone, how can there still be a happy ending?" 

"I stayed as his side when you died as well," Tom said quietly. "Your epitaph read, _Seek her in eternity, for she is not here_ , in Latin. The same could be said for Lexen now, I suppose." 

"But I'm not going to seek him out," she said with a sigh. "I'm going to go home and give my little brother a potion to let him go to Hogwarts with the rest of us." 

"And I'm sure he'll just be ecstatic that you're happy," Tom said. "Are you ready to go?" 

Kirlin nodded. "Let's go." 

He took the memory from her as well. With a final look to the rest of us and a soft smile from Kirlin, the two of them stepped into the Nexus and were gone in a swirl of color. Tom returned in a moment and went over toward Raven. 

"So, your turn, little one?" he said gently. 

"I'm not really that little," Raven said, but then smiled at him. "But I've enjoyed these past years. I wish they could have lasted longer. I won't forget, though. I won't forget Mum and Dad, or you, or Rispy, or Maraas and his attempts at babysitting." She giggled. "I know what I must do, though." 

"Lexen would say that there are always choices," Tom said quietly. 

Raven nodded. "I know. And this is my choice." 

"Alright," Tom said, smiling a little. "Let me get the memory... there we go. Ready?" 

"Tell Maraas goodbye for me, whoever is staying," Raven said brightly, then practically skipped into the Nexus. "Farewell to all, wherever your paths may take you." 

With that, Tom took her away in twisting colors, and returned momentarily. 

"So, who else is going?" Tom asked. "Rispy?" 

I nodded, a little hesitantly, but as much as I liked this world, I knew where I belonged. And that wasn't in being propped up as a Paragon by unappreciative dwarves who didn't really listen to me anyway. 

"Back to Terrestia for me," I said. 

"You aren't leaving too, are you, son?" Malcolm asked. 

Tom gave his father a small smile, and said, "Not on your life. I have a home here, and a family. And I want to finish the Eluvian. One day, perhaps, I will step through and seek out knowledge in some other world. Maybe I'll not even go alone. But for now, Kirkwall is my home." 

"I'm glad to hear that," Malcolm said with a grin. 

Tom chuckled softly. "Lexen left behind unfulfilled promises I aim to keep on his behalf, as well. Fenris, Isabela..." He shrugged. "Well, I'd hate to leave business unfinished." He grinned. "Anyway, Rispy, when are we heading? Someplace I've been? Because I'm not sure I can read a dwarf's mind." 

"What would happen if you went to sometime where Lexen was?" I asked. 

Tom paused thoughtfully for a moment, and replied, "I have no idea. I don't think my bond would re-establish, since I made sure to set it up to be independent. Yours might, however. Do you _want_ it to?" 

"I don't know," I said. "It's not exactly something I've given much thought to, you know?" 

Tom chuckled. "I understand. How about I take us to when we first arrived on Terrestia? You weren't bonded yet, but you'll have some years to think about whether you want to do it again." 

I nodded thoughtfully. "Alright." I paused for a moment. "Tell my sister I said goodbye, will you? Oh, and tell my mam she can go fuck herself." I snickered. "Just kidding." 

I stepped into the Nexus with Tom and took a final look at those who had been my friends. Then, in a moment's disorientation, the world twisted and warped around me, and my view of the Black City was gone. 

When my vision cleared again, I was in my home village on the island where I grew up, a fourteen year old servile again. A younger, weaker body and a different species -- that would take some getting used to. 

But get used to it I did. The years passed, and I waited for you in the Drypeak Mountains, but you didn't come. The timeline had shifted, and something else happened instead. I started to wonder if you were even still in Terrestia at all. 

I finally ran into you again attending a school on a remote island chain. We adventured together for a time, assisting the Rebellion, before going our separate ways for a while. 

And then, when I found you again, you had forgotten me. You had forgotten everything. I don't know what happened in the intervening years. 

I could tell you tales of my own adventures, but let's leave that for another time. For now, we have work to do. Freedom for all beings on this world is finally within reach. There's a happy ending to be earned here. 


End file.
